Harry Potter and the Archway of the Dead
by HighEmpress
Summary: Book 8. Set right after the Deathly Hallows, but before the Epilogue. Find out what happens after the battle. Getting rid of the Hallows won't be so easy. COMPLETE. Love reviews. Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter one: true heroes 

Harry Potter sat on the edge of his four-poster bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, tying his shoes mechanically. The room was bathed with morning light but it was utterly empty except for Harry's few belongings. The curtains had been drawn, the beds made, and the trunks of Dean, Seamus and Neville had already been taken away by the busy house-elves. Harry could not tell if they had spent the night in the room at all. They had probably left very early, or they had slept elsewhere. Ron, Harry remembered, had said that he would remain with his parents and sleep when they would get at The Burrow. It felt strange to be alone in the dormitory. It had been Harry's home for six years. Now, after being absent for so many months, it did not feel as though he belonged there anymore. He had already said good-bye to this room. He had not expected that he would return.

Harry glanced at his watch. It was almost lunchtime, which meant that he had probably slept a good eight hours, yet he did not feel much rested. The phrases that Hermione had written down for him on a small bit of parchment kept popping in his brain like a constant reminder of the dreaded time today when he would have to stand up and speak in front of hundreds of people. _Today we remember the braves_.

He had chosen to wear black from head to toe instead of the dress robes that he knew the other students would be wearing. It seemed more appropriate since he had been absent from Hogwarts for a whole year. He had sent Kreacher back to Grimmauld Place to fetch him some clothes and the old elf had returned with a set of sober black robes that had once belonged to Sirius. As he tied the last button of his shirt, he was very careful to hide the bruise around his neck that he still had from the Horcrux that had almost strangled him. His hands showed signs of burns and Hermione had insisted that he applied Dittany everyday until the skin was fully repaired. He had also noticed a mark on his chest, right in the middle where Voldemort's Killing Curse had hit him. It was a bit sore at the touch, but it seemed otherwise like a minor injury. The faint black spot came out quite insignificant next to the round and raw-looking lesion left by the locket that had been thorn off his skin magically. Overall, he felt lucky that he had not lost a limb, or an ear like George. He could live with a few additional scars.

Harry looked around to make sure that he left nothing behind. The Invisibility Cloak and the Elder Wand were hidden carefully inside Hermione's beaded bag so that he did not have to carry them around. After the funeral, he was planning to gather his possessions and bring them all to Grimmauld Place. He had made up his mind that he would settle in Sirius' house. It was now his house, Harry's house, after all. Kreacher had respectfully agreed to prepare the residence for his arrival. The elf had seemed quite happy to be going home. Harry could not escape going back with Ron at The Burrow, however, has he had already made that commitment to Mrs Weasley. He could, of course, not refuse the invitation, but he would try to remain there for the shortest time possible. He had things to do and places to go to, and he wanted to be free of his comings and goings. But all of that would have to wait until the funeral.

With a jolt in his stomach, Harry realised that he had forgotten his lines, again. Hastily, he pulled out the piece of parchment that he had stuffed into his robes' inner pocket and read Hermione's tiny handwriting once more.

_Today we remember the braves.__ Although their heart where heavy with loses, although the odds were against them, they fought, not because they were told to, but because they choose to. They fought oppression because they believed in the right to be free. They fought domination because they believed that all are equal. They fought cruelty because they believed that we are entitled to a life without fear, or pain, or terror. Today we honour them for their courage, their determination, and their self-sacrifice. They have brought hope and peace to countless future generations. Farewell._

Harry folded the paper and tried to recite the speech in his head as he crossed the empty Gryffindor Common Room. _Today we remember the braves_. Why did so many people have to die?

"Harry!" someone yelled loudly as the portrait of the Fat Lady closed behind him.

It was Hermione, climbing the stairs at a fast pace. She swung her arms around his neck as soon as she reached him. Harry was glad to see that she was not wearing her Hogwarts robes either but that she sported a long black dress. Her hair was elegantly tied with curls hanging loosely around her face. Harry could not help but notice how much older she looked and he wondered vaguely if it was the result of that last year's efforts, or if it was simply the natural course of things.

"Did you sleep well? I mean, did you sleep at all?" She said as she peered into his face. "You look awful."

"I can't remember this speech," he replied, ignoring her comment and showing her the folded piece of paper in his hand.

"Oh," she said, taking the parchment and reading it speedily. "Well, you know, it's more like a guideline. You should improvise a bit too, like we said. Add something of your own."

Harry shrugged. No matter how many times he turned it over, the only words that came to his mind were "I'm sorry".

"What in Merlin's name would you be apologising for?" Ron had snapped at him in a voice that could have been Hermione's. "You destroyed You-Know-Who! You finished him for good! How can you feel sorry for that?"

"I'm sure that Harry feels sorry for all the people who died, Ron," Hermione had offered, voicing out Harry's feeling.

He just felt that if he had been a bit cleverer, if he had asked Dumbledore all the right questions at the right moment, if he had acted sooner, if he had not wasted so much time in hiding, then perhaps Fred would still be there. But he could not bring himself to say that to Ron, not yet anyway.

"But Ron's right," Hermione had added at once. "Don't apologise. Just be yourself. And get some sleep."

But the time of the funeral had already been set and therefore the sleep that Harry had been able to get was the bare minimum.

Hermione folded the paper thoughtfully and handed it back to Harry. He could see in her pale composure that she had not rested much either.

"Your hands," she said, ceasing his wrists and turning them over so that she could get a good look at his palms.

Harry quickly noticed that her hands were completely healed though she had received the same kind of burns.

"You should show this to Madam Pomfrey," she said with a tone of concern.

He had pulled his hands back away from her and was trying to avoid her stare. The hospital wing was full of people, students and adults alike, who were too severely wounded to be moved to St. Mungo's. It was certainly not a place where he wanted to be at the present moment.

"I'm alright," he said quietly.

Hermione was about to retort but she was cut off by the sound of many footsteps hurrying up the stairs. Harry glanced behind her back to see Ron, Bill and Charlie Weasley, all of them wearing long black robes with a golden pin on their left shoulder. They were climbing the stairs two at the time.

"Hi, mate," Ron greeted him. His voice did not sound cheerful. "Dad reckons that you will need an escort to get to the lake."

"More people have turned up than we expected," Bill explained as they all started going down the stairs.

Harry noticed that Ron had positioned himself between Hermione and him and that he was now holding her tightly by the waist.

"What are you wearing?" Harry asked conversationally, pointing at Ron's shoulder pin.

"You've got one too," said Ron, thrusting a golden pin in Harry's hand.

The brooch that Harry was holding, not bigger than a Galleon, was a beautifully shaped W wrought in gold and encrusted with small red gems.

"Fred and George had a whole stack of silver pins made for the shop. They spit out rude comments if you wear them in front of a mirror. But these ones," said Bill, pressing a loving hand on his brooch, "were fashioned in gold by Goblins at Fred and George's request. They thought we should have a family crest. George gave them to us this morning."

Harry did not need to see Bill's face to feel his grief. The sorrow caused by the absence of Fred among the Weasley brothers was palpable. There was a new and solemn demeanour in all of them, sad but proud all at once. Harry felt almost awkward to be walking among them, like an intruder, yet they had given him one of their Weasley brooches. _Not one of their brooches_, Fred's _brooch_, he thought bitterly.

"Listen, guys, I can't take this. It was Fred's. I just can't…"

"It wasn't Fred's, mate," said Ron, pressing a hand on his shoulder. "There was one for you."

Harry's throat suddenly became very tight and he could not say anything.

"Shall we get going then?" said Charlie.

Harry held the brooch all the way down the stairs cradled in his hands as though it was very fragile and could brake at any moment. When he looked up, he saw Ron and Hermione holding hands. They seemed bathed in the bright morning light, and for a moment he could not take his eyes off them. He had a sudden urge to find Ginny. He had not spoken to her yet. Ron had said that Mrs Weasley was not letting Ginny out of her sight. She would find him, he knew, probably sooner than later. There was time now.

As they were walking down the corridors, Harry became more aware of his surroundings. He noticed for the first time the full extend of the damage that the castle had suffered. Almost all of the windows were broken, which allowed great beams of radiant sunlight to come through untainted, illuminating the many splintered doors, wrecked picture frames and thorn tapestries. In some places, the wall had been blast apart and stones were scattered on the floor. The corridors were quite deserted which gave Harry the peculiar feeling that he was walking through an old and sacred ruin. As they passed in front of the entrance to the Great Hall, Harry saw with relief that the ceiling was once again a perfect imitation of the outside sky, blue, with tiny white clouds, and he felt a little more cheerful at the sight. He seemed to remember that the ceiling had burst into a red blaze somewhere during his final duel with Voldemort, but he couldn't be sure. He had been very much concentrated on what he was doing at that moment and the details of his surroundings at that time were a little hazy. He was glad that, at least, one of the best features of Hogwarts had been salvaged.

"Oh, dear! I didn't imagine that there would be so many people."

Harry stepped up behind Hermione and instantly understood the sudden tone of nervousness in her voice. They had come through the front door to find themselves face to face with a crowd of at least a thousand people. They were all hunched in small groups and chatting in hushed voices. Most of them were wearing black or official looking robes. Up ahead, at the edge of the Black Lake, stood a wooden structure that reminded Harry of the one that had been erected for the Triwizard Tournament. So the funeral had to be taking place near the Black Lake as Dumbledore's had.

"Blimey!" Ron gasped. "Looks like the whole Ministry of Magic is here. And look, Beauxbatons!"

Sure enough, the carriage and its five magnificent winged horses could be seen in a shaded spot near Hagrid's hut and students wearing blue robes were walking in pairs towards the Black Lake, Madam Maxime at the lead.

"How are we going to get through, though?" Charlie whispered to Bill, with a backward glance at Harry.

"I don't think I'm in any danger," Harry joined in.

"Some people could still be under the Imperius Curse, Harry," said Hermione in a low voice. "There are still Death Eaters at large."

"Not for long, though," Ron replied angrily.

Charlie gave Ron a meaningful pat on the back.

"We're already late. Here, Harry, take this."

Hermione pressed the Invisibility Cloak into his arms. For a fleeting moment, he was a little reluctant to put it on. He did not want to hide anymore, but the prospect of walking through all of those whispering people and having to avoid their stares rapidly became a good incentive to put the cloak on.

Bill and Charlie led the way, and Harry could see through the cloak's transparent fabric that they had drawn their wands at their side. Ron and Hermione were following with Harry at the rear. Ron had a protective hand on Hermione's shoulders and Harry could see that he, too, had drawn his wand. Slowly, as they made their way through, the crowd began to part in front of them so that Bill and Charlie did not even have to ask people to make way. Familiar faces kept popping up along the way. Ron and Hermione stopped a few times to shake hands. The closer they were getting to the Black Lake, the more people were clapping upon their passage to show their appreciation. Bill and Charlie did not lower their guard, but Ron seemed to relax about halfway through when Viktor Krum came forth. He approached with a handful of Durmstrang students following him, and for a second Krum and Ron Weasley stood facing each other. Then Krum suddenly took Ron by the shoulders and gave him a brotherly hug, after which the other Durmstrang students all burst into applause and there was laughter all around.

"Vere's Harry?" Krum asked to Hermione's ear.

"Don't worry, he's here," Hermione reassured him as Ron pulled her away from Krum and towards the rows of seats.

Ron and Hermione's arrival at the edge of the lake was greeted with another outburst of applause from a core of Hogwarts students who were mostly DA members and their families. At this point, Harry really felt that he should take the cloak off, especially since people kept bumping into him. He nudged Hermione on the shoulder.

"No, not yet," she whispered at once. "There are rumours… Stay hidden."

Then he was almost knocked over by Neville who had only just arrived and was now hugging Hermione in a very tight and friendly embrace. Ron's attention was also caught up. He was locked in a prolonged handshake with Professor Slughorn. Since his friends were in no position to talk to him, Harry decided instead to head towards the structure that he had seen from the castle. It was actually a small wooden platform mounted on black curtains. It was not very wide, but it was high enough so that everyone could have a good view at the speaker. Harry elbowed his way towards it, hoping to get some privacy to rehearse his speech. He pulled off the cloak as soon as he was sure that he could not be seen from the crowd. Hermione's comment seemed to have awakened his senses. What rumours? Why had he not been informed? Who in their right mind would attempt any kind of stunt on a day like this? The thought was just disgusting. And for what purpose? The Dark Lord's reign was over, was it not?

Harry was pondering about the so-called rumours, when all of a sudden he realised that he had dropped the Weasley brooch while taking the cloak off. Hastily, and with a jolt in the stomach, he unfolded the heavy cloth and saw with relief the golden token fall to the ground. It was only when he kneeled to pick up the brooch that he noticed on what he was standing. Under his feet was a bed of small white flowers that seemed to stretch as far as the eye could see on each side of the stage. And in the middle of the white field, fifty or so black coffins had been laid down, rows after rows, like small boats on an ocean of light.

Harry remained rooted on the spot, breathless. He knew the number, but only now did he realise exactly how many had died. The knob on his chest seemed to tighten. How many of them were people that he had known? He had seen the list of names, but he could not remember them all. How could he not remember their names? Why was his brain suddenly so numb? The humming of the crowd behind the stage seemed to fade away. There was only him and fifty tombs. _Fifty-two_, he thought. Beyond the field of flowers, near the trees, he could see Dumbledore's marble tomb. _Dumbledore's tomb counts as one and Dobby's grave at Shell Cottage. That's fifty-two._ And as he started to add the tombs, other names came into his mind. Cedric, Sirius, Moody, Hedwig, Wormtail. How many others? How many had died because of one wizard?

_One wizard? Voldemort? __Is he to receive all the blame? What about the Boy Who Lived? What the hell took you so long, Chosen One? _

"Harry?"

Hermione's soft voice seemed distant, yet she was standing just beside him. Harry shook his head in an attempt to quiet the other questioning voice. It was his conscience speaking, and he would have to deal with it some other time. He rolled up the cloak and handed it to Hermione unceremoniously, but his shaking hands did not escape her glance.

"It's alright, Harry," Hermione whispered kindly. "It's nearly over. In a few days, it will be just…"

"A memory?" said Harry abruptly, finishing the sentence for her. "I doubt that the Weasleys would agree with that."

Hermione was going to add something back when they were interrupted by the arrival of Kingsley Shaklebolt, the newly appointed Minister of Magic. A little half-heartedly, Hermione took a few steps back so that Kingsley could shake Harry's hand.

"Well done, Potter, well done," he said warmly. "Dumbledore would have been very proud."

A moment later, Kingsley was climbing the steps to the platform and the last murmuring voices fell silent. Harry took a few steps towards the black curtains to see if he could spot familiar faces. He was aware that Hermione was half-watching him, half-listening to Kingsley's speech.

Ron had taken a seat with all of his brothers except Fred in the front row. Ginny was there too, at the end of the row. George was leaning on her shoulder and she was stroking his hair in a motherly fashion. His eyes were closed and tears were flowing down his face like raindrops. Harry suddenly understood why Ginny's mother had needed her. After Fred, she was the one to whom George was closest. And all that Harry wanted now was to be sitting with her. He wanted to share this moment with her, away from the center stage, away from the stares and the overwhelming presence of fifty coffins on his conscience.

"I don't want to do this," he said truthfully to Hermione. "I don't know what to say."

"It doesn't matter, Harry," she replied softly. "Just be yourself."

She kissed him gently on the cheek and left through the black curtain.

Kingsley was talking and Harry was reading the lines on the piece of paper once more. His throat was dried. The lump on his chest was pressing painfully on his lungs. He felt short of breath, almost dizzy. When he heard Kingsley call out his name, it was out of a haze that he heard it. Halfway up the stairs, he realised that he had forgotten to put on the Weasley brooch. He put it on hastily with one foot on the last step.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Kingsley asked, frowning at him. "You look like you're going to be sick."

Harry managed a weak "I'm okay" and Kingsley sat down on the single chair that had been placed on the corner of the platform. Harry had just realised with dismay that he had forgotten most of the speech. There was something about self-sacrifice, and hope for future generations.

"Today," he began. His voice was shaky and it did not seem to carry pass the first row.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Kingsley step up to him noiselessly. "Point your wand at your throat and say '_Sonorus'_," he said to Harry's ear. "And take a deep breath first."

Harry did as he was told. He was increasingly aware that he was trembling all over and he hoped dearly that no one had noticed.

"Today," he repeated. This time his voice was carried so far that he heard a faint echo coming back to him as the sound hit the surface of the late. He took another deep breath. "Today we remember…"

But he could not say it. No words were coming out of his throat. He knew that his eyes were filled up with tears. He could not say that speech. It wasn't how he felt. But he did not have to words to articulate what he wanted to put across. In his head, there were only names: Cedric, Sirius, Dumbledore, Moody, Hedwig, Wormtail, Snape, Lupin, Tonks, Fred.

Then suddenly, someone was clapping. And the clapping became a thunder of applause. And among the applause there were voices he knew. They were all saying his name in unison, encouraging him. Then it came, the thing that he had wanted to say.

"I wish," he started again, and the uproar faded at once. "I wish that I wasn't here today. I wish that I wasn't standing in front of you on this beautiful summer day. I wish that we could all be elsewhere, at home with our loved ones, not here with the empty seats, and the coffins, and the sorrow. Too many have died."

He paused and allowed his glance to fall on Ginny for a short moment. He could hear Mrs Weasley's sobbing. But beyond the rows of seats, hundreds of people were assembled. They were all from different backgrounds, different family trees, and different origins. House-elves, Goblins, centaurs, giants, wizards, Muggles: they were all gathered here for one reason. They wanted to _know_. They wanted confirmation. They had heard the rumour, the tale, the news, but they wanted to hear it with their own ears. Therefore, there was no better time to get everyone's attention. They had to understand that Voldemort would never return. And they had to know what they could do to prevent the rise of another Dark Lord.

"And today we must ask ourselves why," he continued forcefully, willing himself to stand up straight. "The Dark Arts? Dark Magic alone can't be blamed for all of these deaths."

The crowd was quite still and silent.

"My son!" someone cried all of a sudden. "My son died! The Killing Curse straight to the chest! The Dark Arts ought to be forbidden altogether!"

There was whispering, and nodding, but Harry choose to ignore it. He was rubbing his own chest on the spot where he had received the second Killing Curse.

"You see that kid?" he said suddenly, pointing his finger at a young boy in the third row. "His name is Dennis Creevey. His brother died. Yet Dennis could never summon enough hate to produce a Killing Curse. Not even to kill his brother's murderer. Because, you see, in order to kill someone, you have to mean it. And Dennis doesn't want to kill anyone."

He saw Dennis Creevey's mother pull her son into a hug.

"Why were the Death Eaters so good at killing people, then?"

The question was almost inaudible and he could not see the speaker so Harry repeated the question at large. He could see that people were moving in their seats now, inquiring to their neighbours, speaking out.

"They thought that they were doing the right thing," said a voice close to the platform. Harry looked down and saw that it was Minerva McGonagall. She was sitting very close to the wooden stage and was surrounded by the other Hogwarts teachers.

"Exactly, Professor" Harry agreed. "They thought that they were doing the right thing. They had a higher purpose. It was the old feud about purity of blood. This is why they worshipped him. It was the goal that he had promised. And they followed him without question, because he was everything they believed in, the purest of all, the heir of Salazar Slytherin."

His words seemed to start a general stirring. People were talking more and more loudly. Even with the Sonorus Spell, Harry knew that he would need to speak on top of his voice now if he wanted to be heard. But it was not a problem; he could do it. His throat did not feel so tight anymore.

"It's true, then," said Slughorn, and Harry could hear the shock in his voice.

"He was the heir of Slytherin," said Harry in a matter-of-fact tone. "But he was not pure-blood. He was half Muggle. And his name was Tom Riddle, like his Muggle father."

The crowd seemed to gasp, and then the countless voices rose at once. It was what he had wanted to achieve. The people in front of him were realising that they had been swayed. The most powerful wizard of all times had not been a pure-blood. For the first time in fifty years, Voldemort's supremacy was being challenged, and the result was an intensifying uproar.

"I remember Riddle," said a very old man who looked like he was just waking up. "He won an award for Services to the School. He was a Prefect, too. Are you saying…? _That_ Riddle?"

"Not a pure-blood?" Cornelius Fudge squabbled. He was sitting apart from the Hogwarts teachers and with a few other Ministry officials. Harry thought that he saw the ex-Minister of Magic mutter something like "preposterous" under his breath.

"But why?" shrieked a woman who was in tears. "What did he want to prove?"

"He wanted to show how extraordinary he was," Harry answered. "He didn't want to create a new order. He wanted to _be_ that order. He wanted power for himself. Every other cause was insignificant to him. His own greatness was the only thing that ever mattered to him."

"Are you telling us that this war was pointless?" yelled an angry voice. "Are you saying that our children died for some power-hungry fool?"

"Of course, he isn't saying that, you stupid git!" Ron shouted back. "Haven't you been listening?"

"I guess the thing I'm trying to say," Harry continued, "is that Lord Voldemort was a made-up name to inspire fear, but behind that, he was just a man. You see, Tom Riddle started out as nothing more than what any of us is today. He was a boy who went to school, who studied hard, and who was rewarded for his efforts. He had a plan, a goal that he had set for himself, and he went for it. But although he was very cunning, he failed to see the one thing that he really needed. And it's that one thing that makes us here more powerful than he ever was."

And as he said this he looked at Ginny, then at Ron and Hermione, and they were all beaming at him.

"_L'amour_," said Fleur with her arms around Bill's neck.

"The greatest magic of all," agreed Mr Weasley, kissing his wife on the forehead.

"We are here today because each of us has the power to love selflessly. Those who are gone fought to protect the ones they loved. What we have to remember is not the way they died, but how they choose to live. They are the true heroes. And if you would stand up now, it would truly show how proud we are to be able to call them family and friends."

He had not yet finished his sentence that there was a sound like a rolling thunder as the crowd in front of Harry Potter rose in unison. Some people were crying; others were hugging their relatives and neighbours. All were looking at each other and sharing their grief and their happiness. The moment seemed frozen in time as though it was a chorus that would never end. Then Harry thought he heard a faint musical sound, like the singing of a phoenix, but as he looked up at the sky, he saw only a flock of Thestrals through a midst of tears.


	2. Chapter 2

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter two: Rumours 

Late in the afternoon, when he thought that he could not endure another handshake, Harry Potter slipped away from the lingering crowd of people and found himself standing in front of Dumbledore's marble tomb. He felt exhausted, but happy. Perhaps he had let himself get carried away, and perhaps he would have been better off with Hermione's speech, nevertheless he felt satisfied with the choice of his own words. And he could not help but be proud of how all the audience had risen at the end of his speech. Alone, at last, he allowed a few tears to fall on his cheeks, unconcealed and unchecked.

"People will be talking about that speech for years," a familiar voice said unexpectedly.

He turned around and there was Ginny, standing a few paces away from him with the wind blowing in her hair. Harry didn't even take the time to wipe down his face. He crossed the remaining distance between them in hurried strides and kissed her with the same passion he had given away on his birthday at The Burrow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered to her ear as he pulled her in a tight embrace. "I should have done that sooner."

"Don't ever avoid me again," she replied shrewdly.

At that moment, a Thestral landed gracefully besides them with its wide spread-out wings and ethereal appearance. It seemed to sniff the air for something that Harry could not identify.

"It's a bit strange, seeing them."

Harry looked at Ginny compassionately. He didn't dare to ask whose death she had seen. It couldn't have been Fred's…

"I saw Tonks die," she said as if she had read his thoughts. "She was right by my side. It could have been me. But that's how she wanted to die, I think."

Harry could not reply anything. He seemed to be at a loss for words at the moment. He had not yet stopped to think about how he would miss them all: Lupin, Tonks, Fred. The only reply that he could gather together was a weak smile. He was so tired now.

"Let's not stand," Ginny offered, pulling his hand and leading him to sit down on the grass in front of Dumbledore's tomb.

She leaned her back against the white marble and Harry did the same. All the while, he did not let go of her hand.

"You don't think he will mind, do you?" Harry said thoughtfully, glancing over his shoulder.

"No, I think he likes you."

Harry was staring in the distance.

"Yeah," he said pensively, "I think he did."

There was a moment of quietness when they just sat next to each other, their fingers intertwined, their shoulders as if glued together. It was one of the blissful wonders about Ginny. There could be silences, and they were never awkward. Harry had not yet been able to find the words to tell her how much she had met to him during the last year. She had been like his anchor.

Harry was still pondering whether or not 'you've been like an anchor to me' was the proper thing to say to Ginny when her voice broke the stillness, pensive and dreamy.

"I feel sorry for little Teddy. But at least he's got you, and us. Have you met him yet?"

Harry straightened his back. He had been in such a peaceful place the second before that it took him a moment to recover his bearings. She was talking about Teddy Lupin, of course, his godson. _I'm a godfather_, he thought.

"No, I haven't," he said a little hastily. "I only saw a picture. Is he here? Have you…?"

But Ginny had sealed his lips with a kiss and the force of it was pushing him back against the white marble tomb. At that moment, he felt that he could have sunk unto the grass with her, and her flowery smell, and her soft hair blowing about her bright face.

"Relax. He's not going to disappear. I was only asking. You don't have to rush into anything right now."

"There are things that I have to do, though," he said tentatively. "Seeing Teddy is merely one of them. The Dursleys, I'd like to be the one to bring them home. Then I have to go back to Godric's Hollow, and Grimmauld Place, and Gringotts."

"Are you coming home with us first?"

There was a tone of apprehension in her voice.

"Yeah, sure," he said half-heartedly.

He didn't want to tell her that he could linger at The Burrow for too long. The Elder Wand needed to be put in a safe place as swiftly as possible. The goblins had also made it clear that they had not had their final word with him. After the speech, it had become obvious that the whole Wizarding community would not be satisfied until he had visited every household and every department of the Ministry of Magic. There was so much explaining to do, so much talking and tidying of loose ends. He was not sure yet how much of the story he was willing to share. He would have to consult with Ron and Hermione about that. _Later_, he thought, _not today._

There was a cool breeze now blowing around them now. The sun was getting low beyond the mountains. Harry and Ginny were sitting close to each other, hidden in the shadow of Dumbledore's tomb. The Thestral had taken off and was now flying low over the Dark Forest. Harry could see its outline in the pale light of the fading day. He was slipping into a peaceful sleep, and he felt no need or desire to shake it off.

When Harry awoke from his slumber, he was lying on the grass with his head resting on Ginny's lap. She was loosely stroking his hair. He did not open his eyes straight away. He was just thankful that their moment alone together had lasted longer than a few minutes. _I wonder what time it is now_, he thought vaguely. They would probably be leaving for The Burrow soon.

"Oi, you two!" shouted a familiar voice all of a sudden.

Harry's eyes snapped opened and he saw Ron walking fast up to him, looking rather dismal. Ginny was already on her feet, brushing grass off her black skirt. Harry saw her press a loving hand on her Weasley brooch as though she was making sure that it was still there.

"How's George?" she asked before Ron could say anything.

Harry's heart sank as he saw the look on Ron's face grow, if possible, even grimmer.

"Mum wants you," he said plainly to Ginny.

She glanced back at Harry and waited for him to nod, a worried expression suddenly visible on her face, and then she was off at a run. Harry saw her exchange a swift brush of hands with Hermione as she ran pass her. Hermione was slowly walking up to them with some difficulty because of her long dress.

Harry had expected Ron to make a comment about him and Ginny's being together, but clearly Ron had a lot more on his mind. Harry could not recall seeing him with such a heartbreaking look on his face.

"How is he?" Harry asked with concern.

Ron merely shrugged and stared at his shoes.

"He walked up to Fred's coffin after your speech and he's refusing to leave it. It's awful seeing him like that. My parents want him to come home with us, but he just won't budge, and no one wants to force him, you know."

"Is there anything I can do?" offered Harry.

"Mum reckons Ginny will get through to him. She was always Fred and George's favourite."

Harry remained silent. He still could not get over the fact that Fred and George would never be seen as a pair again.

"Harry! You really shouldn't run off like that," Hermione breathed out as she caught up with them. She took Ron's left hand in hers as though it was the most natural thing in the world. Her eyes were bloodshot and dried, her face was pale, but she was smiling warmly and Ron's expression seemed to soften.

"I should have known that you would be here," said Hermione to Harry, glancing at the white marble, and then straight into his eyes. "Are you okay? You look worn out. I thought you were going to faint up on that stage. Your speech was very good, by the way, better than mine. You really put yourself into it."

"Yours was awesome, too," Ron offered kindly, giving Hermione a squeeze of the shoulders.

As Ron pulled her closer to him, Harry saw that she was still carrying the beaded bag under her arm and immediately he thought about his Invisibility Cloak which he had completely forgotten to recover after the speech.

Thankfully, Hermione seemed to pick up on the look of sudden realisation on his face. A second later, she was pulling the Cloak out of her bag and thrusting it in Harry's arms with a stern air.

"Thanks, Hermione. I'm going to hang on to it, but I don't think I'll need it from now on. I can't say I'll miss hiding under it all the time, to be honest… _what_?"

Hermione and Ron were both staring at him with anxious expressions.

"_What_? What's wrong now?"

"I told you," said Hermione pointedly. "There are rumours."

"What kind of rumours?"

"You were fighting Voldemort one on one," she answered, "and you and he said things. I don't think you realised how many people were actually listening, and a lot of them have come up with their own conclusions."

"You mean people like Rita Skeeter?"

Harry recalled that he had seen the Daily Prophet reporter at the funeral, talking in hushed voices to Professor Trelawney, her Quick-Notes Quill zooming at her side.

"It's not just harmless Rita Skeeter nosing around, Harry," said Hermione gravely. "Voldemort mentioned the Elder Wand. Some people picked up on that. And you weren't exactly careful about hiding your Invisibility Cloak."

"What are you saying?"

"The Tale of the Three Brothers, mate," said Ron as Hermione looked at him for support. "It's been going around that you might have the three objects like in the story. It turns out that a lot of people believe in that stuff. Xeno Lovegood is just one of them. Some people reckon that's how you survived. 'Master of Death' and all that."

Harry was taken aback. Of course, he had expected to hear all kinds of theories that might explain how and why Voldemort had been destroyed. No one but Ron and Hermione knew about the Horcruxes, except perhaps Professor Slughorn. Harry had not yet given thought to the official version that he wanted to give. It was a little disquieting to think that Voldemort's downfall had already been linked to the Deathly Hallows.

"There's no 'Master of Death'. It's just symbolic. It's a way of saying that you have to accept death, not try to defeat it," said Harry a little more vociferously than he had intended. The knot on his chest where he had received the Killing Curse seemed to throb for a fleeting moment, but he covered it up with a brief cough.

"We know that, Harry," said Hermione sympathetically, "but everyone is trying to piece together what happened. The Death Eaters' account is that you died. You got hit by the Killing Curse straight to the chest. They all saw it."

Harry could not reply. He had no clear explanation as to what had happened, at least none that he could give to the Wizarding community without revealing some important information.

"You're thinking that I'm going to have to make some kind of public statement, aren't you?" he said to Hermione.

She glanced back at Ron and Harry immediately saw that there was something else that they were not telling him.

"_What_?" He asked loudly, staring from one to the other.

"Some people reckon you could be immortal," said Ron nervously. "If you indeed have the three objects, then you could be, according to the story."

"According to some people's _interpretation_ of the story," added Hermione straight away. "It's ludicrous, of course, but people will believe anything, especially when they've lost so much."

"Who are we talking about, exactly?"

"Xeno Lovegood," answered Hermione hastily. "Don't roll your eyes up like that, Harry! This is serious. He's not the only believer, you know."

"I'm not going to worry about rumours that Xeno Lovegood started," Harry replied dismissively.

He rolled up the Invisibility Cloak under his arm as though putting it away would close the subject. _I'm done hiding_, he thought stubbornly. _I won't hide anymore. I don't care what people think or believe. I'm just done hiding_.

"I agree with Harry. Xeno Lovegood is mental," said Ron out of the blue.

Apparently, Hermione was as much surprised by Ron's position on the matter as Harry was. She nudged Ron hard on the shoulder and threw him a very accusing look that was reminiscent of Mrs Weasley.

"I'm just saying that he's cracked, but he's not, you know, _evil_," said Ron. "He wouldn't try to do Harry in just to prove he's right."

Hermione's face had gone rather pink. "But, _Ronald_, we agreed that it was important that Harry took this seriously. Remember?"

Harry thought that she was making a real effort not to sound like a Howler.

"I heard something else," Ron cut in.

Hermione fell silent.

"Bill was there when they took Alecto Carrow. She was raving. She kept saying that she was going to kill Harry Potter in the name of the Dark Lord, or something like that. She's not the only one. The Death Eaters that have been brought to Azkaban are out of control, and they have only one thing on their mind."

Hermione was speechless, but Harry was not as shocked as she was. He was used to death threats. He had once thought that Sirius Black was going to kill him. For years, he had lived with Voldemort's constant attempts to finish him off. Those who had supported the Dark Lord new order were on the run now, their dreams shattered, their lives dramatically changed. It wasn't surprising that many of them wanted him dead. Revenge was probably an act that Voldemort used to reward greatly.

Hermione, however, looked quite appalled at the idea of death threats.

"When did you find that out?" she asked to Ron.

"Just now. Bill told me in private right before he sent me to get Ginny. He didn't tell mum and dad because he doesn't want to worry them anymore, and I sort of agree with him. We can handle this, but we'll have to make sure Harry is well protected at all times."

"But you just said that the Death Eaters have been brought to Azkaban," Harry began to argue. He was feeling rather crestfallen. "The Dementors will look after them. And the Aurors are going to watch closely anyone who's potentially dangerous. I don't really need all that protection, do I?"

Harry looked over at Hermione for support, but her face was stone white.

"But the Dementors aren't going back to Azkaban, are they?" she whispered with sudden realisation.

"No," said Ron, confirming Hermione's insight. "Kingsley reckons it was Dumbledore's wish that the Dementors be sent to a place where they can't harm anyone. Probably some place far up north."

"Which means that the security in Azkaban…"

"… Won't be what it used to be," concluded Harry, finishing Hermione's sentence.

_There's __no escaping it, then_, he thought, staring into the distance. The Cloak suddenly felt very heavy, like a burden. Was he to be put out of sight under it for the rest of his days? What kind of life was that for his friends, for Ginny? The worrying and the hiding were never going to end, not as long as there were Death Eaters in Azkaban.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione let out. "Please don't look so put out. I'm sure the Ministry will figure out a way to keep the Death Eaters in Azkaban without the Dementors."

"Yeah," he replied half-heartedly.

All of his thoughts were on Ginny now. Was he going to put her in danger just by being with her? Would the Death Eaters get to her first, just to draw him in?

Harry was suddenly brought out of his questionings by the appearance of a silver light that was gliding towards where he, Ron and Hermione were standing. The beam stopped swiftly at their feet and the three of them saw quite distinctively in the semi-darkness the shape of a shining bespectacled cat.

"A message from McGonagall," said Hermione.

"Harry, if you could spare a moment, Firenze would like a private word with you. He is waiting for you near Hagrid's hut, on the edge of the Dark Forest. Your speech was wonderful. Dumbledore would have enjoyed it. Best regards."

And with a faint _pop_, the silver cat vanished into a wisp of white smoke.

"What could Firenze want with you?"

"The Dark Forest, Harry, it's not safe. We should go with you," Hermione offered sheepishly.

"Never mind. I'll just use the Cloak. I'm used to it, remember?"

Without further ado, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head and started towards the edge of the Dark Forest, leaving Ron and Hermione behind, both wearing a deflated expression that he only knew too well.


	3. Chapter 3

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter three: Into the Dark Forest 

Harry quickened his pace as he passed in front of Hagrid's hut. It was early in the evening now and the ground was almost deserted. The Weasleys were probably waiting for him to return in order to set out together for The Burrow. They would have to walk to Hogsmead as the enchantment that provided anyone from Apparating on the school's property had been cast by McGonagall. And since everyone was convinced that Harry's life was threatened by more than one party, there was no way that he would be able to leave Hogwarts without an escort.

Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak closer to his body and shivered as a gust of cold wind blew about him and rustled the tree leaves of the Dark Forest now in front of him. _It was supposed to be different_, he thought bitterly. _After Voldemort's downfall, everything was supposed to change. Why am I still 'Undesirable Number One'?_

His mind was still raging about the unfairness of his situation when Firenze's outline appeared between the trees. He was barely a moving shadow in the darkness of the forest, but Harry recognised him straight away as the centaur who had stepped between him and the half-formed Voldemort sixteen years ago. Harry pulled his right hand from under the Cloak and was about to take it off when the centaur spoke in a low voice.

"Keep the cloak on, and follow me."

Harry obeyed and took on to step in Firenze's tracks into the Dark Forest, leaving behind Hagrid's hut and the pale glow of early evening. It was utterly dark beyond the trees and Harry did not dare to use his wand to light his way. It did not seem as though Firenze wanted to be seen or followed. He was climbing over large tree roots and stepping into muddy ponds wherever he could. Harry did his best to keep up with him, while at the same time tripping over his Cloak and clutching his wand with his right hand. At last, Firenze stopped on the edge of what seemed in the darkness like a large clearing. There, he waited for Harry to come up to him.

"You may light up your wand now, Harry Potter," said the centaur, staring ahead.

As he had pulled off the Cloak and said _Lumos_, Harry instantly guessed where they were. He could clearly see the spot on which there had been a fire. Hagrid had been tied up to a tree near that mark. A few paces from where he was standing now, Harry recognised the place where he had fallen with his face to the ground, hit by Voldemort's Killing Curse.

"Why are we here?" he asked to Firenze.

"Many things have happened in this clearing," whispered the centaur mysteriously. "Some of it cannot be undone. Dark creatures will be drawn here. It is not a safe place. We must be quick."

Harry thought that he saw a disturbance between the trees. He tightened his grip on his wand and narrowed his eyes, trying to see through the darkness. Apparently, Firenze had noticed the stirring as well because he was fitting an arrow to his bow.

"Harry Potter, you must recover the object. It cannot stay here."

_The Resurrection Stone_, thought Harry at once.

"How do you know?"

"Deep Magic surrounds it. It is known to us, but we cannot wield such power. It is… dangerous."

Firenze seemed to hesitate. He was looking at Harry with searching eyes, and Harry had the distinct feeling that the centaur was looking _through_ him, as Dumbledore had.

"There is darkness still about you, Harry Potter, and a deeper magic. Your battle is not over yet."

"Not over?"

But the centaur had felt silent and Harry knew that he would say no more. Something in the distance seemed to have caught his attention. His horse hooves were beating the floor impatiently.

"You must hurry."

Without further delay, Harry began to look at the ground with the light of his wand. He could remember dropping the Stone the second he had entered the clearing. Then, a few moments later, he had been carried out of the forest by a procession of people. It was likely that someone had stepped on it. If not, there was little hope of ever finding an object that small in the total blackness of the forest. It was a tiny jewel that used to fit on a ring. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.

"It won't be found by your eyes alone, Harry Potter," whispered the centaur.

Harry could see that Firenze was standing guard with his bow stretched and an arrow aimed at the darkness before him. Something was moving up ahead, that much was certain.

Harry flicked his wand and said "_Accio_ Resurrection Stone" as low as he could while wishing very hard to see the small object zoom in his direction, but nothing was happening.

"We must be quick," said the centaur hurriedly.

Firenze was staring into the distance and aiming his arrow intently now. He had the look of a hunter who is about to take his prey. Harry heard a branch snap and he, too, could feel the presence of another. He felt it in his body, like a chill running up his spine.

"Turn off your wand," whispered the centaur between clenched teeth.

"_Nox_."

The glow at the tip of his wand was extinguished at once and he found that he could see further into the distance without the blinding light. There was definitely a shadow moving up ahead, but it was too far beyond the trees to be a decent target for the centaur.

Harry was raking his brains. The Summoning Charm would not bring the Stone to him. Or could it? Clearly, he was not powerful enough. _My_ wand _is not powerful enough_, he thought. This was the answer, of course, the Elder Wand, but he had decided not to use it. He had made up his mind that its power was too much for him to handle. Was he to go back on his decision so quickly? What other alternative did he have?

"Whatever you must do, do it now," the centaur urged him.

Harry knew where the Wand was, but he could not bring it to him on its own. That would be too tricky.

Turning his back to the clearing, he brought up in his mind the image of the Black Lake, the platform, the coffins, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ron, Hermione in her black dress…

"_Accio_ Hermione's handbag," he murmured, concentrating on her image.

It took a few tense seconds, almost a minute, before Harry saw the shape of the beaded bag fly towards him. If it had not been for its shining ornaments, Harry would never have been able to see it in the dark.

Harry caught the bag into both of his arms and was rapidly on his knees, rummaging through Hermione's belongings, looking for the Elder Wand. His arm was in the bag up to his elbow. Firenze was circling around him impatiently. _How much stuff can she fit in there?_

As Harry's hand finally closed in around the Elder Wand, he heard a whistle and he saw that the centaur had released an arrow. It fell into a bush with a crack and the sound seemed to arise several creatures that had been lurking quietly under the cover of darkness. Realising that they would have to make a quick exit, Harry stuffed the Invisibility Cloak and his own wand in the beaded bag. When he got up, he was holding the Elder Wand in front of him and the beaded bag was swinging under his left shoulder.

"_Accio_ Resurrection Stone," said Harry for the second time.

The Elder Wand seemed to vibrate in his hand and suddenly an object the size of a small pebble was gliding towards him. Harry caught the item in his fist and stuffed it in his pocket as quickly as he could. Close to him, Firenze sent another arrow into the depth of the forest, and then another. He was shooting at moving shadows beyond the trees.

"Go now, Harry Potter! Leave the forest!"

Harry did not want to abandon the centaur in a perilous situation, but as he hesitated, rooted on his spot, he felt movement at his feet and saw that the ground was swarming with frighteningly familiar larger-than-average spiders.

"_Arania Exumai_!" he cried forcefully.

A bright light swept over the spiders, wiping almost all of them in a single blow. The force of the spell had been so strong that Harry felt as though the air had been knocked out of his lungs.

"You must not stay here!" shouted Firenze, releasing several more arrows.

Spiders were not pouring into the clearing at great speed and the centaur was kepting them at bay with his hind legs. Very reluctantly, Harry took a few steps back. He knew that with the Elder Wand he could easily clear up a path in front of him, and he refused to let the centaur sacrifice himself so that he could escape. There was simply no need for it.

"Follow me!" he cried out to Firenze. "We'll get out of here together!"

But the centaur did not reply. He was too busy keeping the spiders from crawling on his back.

Harry was about to cast another spell when suddenly he felt a moving body fall on his shoulder and slide down his arm. He shook it off violently, and realised with horror that it was a glistering snake. As he looked up, he saw that the trees above his head were spilling over with slithering shapes. The hissing of hundreds of snakes filled Harry's ears, but he could not make out what they were saying.

"Leave me alone!" he yelled.

To his astonishment, he had not spoken Parseltongue as he had intended. He tried again but it was no use. The snakes were dropping out of the trees and twisting around his arms and legs like Devil's Snare. It seemed like he could not rely on Parseltongue to keep them off him. Thinking of his other options, Harry cried "_Vipera Evanasca!_" and the slithering bodies around him burst into flames in such a way that what fell on his hair were not hundreds of snakes but a downpour of ashes.

"Harry Potter!" shouted Firenze as Harry was catching his breath again. "Farewell!"

Before Harry could reply anything, the centaur bounced clear of the heap of spiders and vanished into the darkness of the forest in a few swift strides. Still panting, Harry took off in the opposite direction at a run. Behind him, he could hear the hissing of the snakes that had escaped the spell, but again, he could not make out what they were saying. _It makes sense. The piece of Voldemort's soul that was in me is gone. So, then, is the ability to speak Parseltongue. _

As he was thinking this, Harry slowed down his pace to recover his bearings. The edge of the forest was probably still far ahead of him. Just to make sure, he took the Elder Wand and said "Point me". The wand spun like a compass and stopped shortly in the direction of the north. Harry was about to get going again with a slight change of course when a heard the cracking of dried leaves. The sound had been very close, but Harry could not see anything.

"_Lumos_!" he said. A bright light filled his surroundings and Harry froze with fear at the sight right in front of him.

The body that he saw was misshapen as though he was looking at pieces of flesh hanging in thin air rather than at a whole being. There was only one eye and it was looking straight at him, vivid and terrible. Harry did not even have time to take a step back. The half-human creature flung itself forward, seizing Harry's wand arm and pulling him hard against a tree trunk. Harry yelled "_Stupefy_!", but the wand was pointing downwards. The fiery-red spell shot into the ground with such force that shards of rocks spread into the air. The creature fell back behind a tree, taking immediate cover from the explosion, and Harry took this fleeting opportunity to take off at a run once more as quick as his lungs would allow him. Several rocks fell on top of his head and he felt blood trickle on the back of his neck, but he did not slow down until the edge of the forest came into view.

When he saw the first hint of Hagrid's hut, he fell unto his knees, trying very hard to steady his breath. He did not have much further to go. Tonight, in a few minutes, he would be laying under the warm covers of his bed at The Burrow.

Harry looked behind his shoulder, wondering if he had been followed, when he saw a familiar outline far into the forest. From the shape of it, it had to be a centaur.

"Firenze?" he said out loud.

The only reply that came was the shrill sound of an arrow and Harry's cry as it landed into his upper left arm. Reacting on the spur of the moment, Harry pulled out the arrow from his flesh, tossed it aside, and struggled to his feet. He had expected to feel pain, but his left arm felt rather cold and numb. Aware that more arrows were sure to fly his way very shortly, he yelled "_Protego_!" with his right hand over his left shoulder and ran out of the forest as quickly as he could with the shield at his back.

He did not stop again until he had his back pressed against the stone wall of Hagrid's hut. Then Harry fell on his knees, breathing heavily, blood trickling down his left arm. Fang trotted up to him, wagging its tail happily, and started to lick his left hand rather eagerly.

"Harry! What happened? Are you al – alright?"

Hermione came running up to him with Ron following behind. They were very close to the edge of the forest and for a moment Harry had the terrifying feeling that arrows were going to fly out of the darkness like rainfall right on top on his friends. Without further assessment, he pointed the wand upwards towards them and the Shield Charm appeared before he had even said the word. He had thought "_Protego_!" of course, but also and more importantly of protecting his friends and the wand seemed to have responded to his wish as though it had read it in his heart.

"Good one, Harry!" said Ron, staring over his shoulder at the shield. "Was that non-verbal? Are you using the – _the_ wand?"

Hermione leaned over Harry and pressed a caring hand over his wand arm.

"Harry, nothing's going to attack us this close to Hagrid's. What are you trying to protect us against?"

The Shield Charm slowly faded away. Hermione was right, of course. Whoever and whatever had attacked him in the forest had failed and now he was out of reached, protected by the enchantments that were customary on the school's grounds. At least, he was certain of two facts: there had been two attackers, and one of them had been a centaur. _But not Firenze_, thought Harry, remembering the outline. Firenze had a more imposing silhouette, more athletic. The centaur he had seen was not muscular; he was just, if that was possible for a centaur, considerably plump.

"You realised that someone was summoning your bag, right?" said Harry to Hermione as she and Ron helped him to his feet.

"Yeah," Ron acknowledged for both of them. "It had to be you, so we came down here and waited on the edge of the forest."

"We didn't want to go into the woods without Hagrid," said Hermione hastily, "but he's somewhere on the grounds with Grawp." She sounded apologetic. "We couldn't send him a message with a Patronus unless we knew exactly where to send it."

"You were right no to go in, Hermione," Harry reassured her. "It's not safe. The creatures were attacking us. I reckon it might be because we're not kids anymore, but there was something else in there too. It wasn't quite human. It might have been an Inferi. I don't know exactly what it was, but it tried to take the Wand."

"What did Firenze want with you?" Ron asked. "He didn't try to kill you, did he? And what did you need that wand for?"

"Harry, are you hurt? Is that… _ashes_ on your hair?"

"Let's walk back to the lake," Harry said, "I'll tell you on the way. I can't wait to get out of here."


	4. Chapter 4

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter four : Brothers 

It was dark now around Hogwarts and the three of them were walking steadily towards the Black Lake at a slow pace. Harry's left arm was still oddly cold and numb and he kept it wrapped around his waist. The pain was sure to kick in very shortly so he was talking rapidly and to the point. His only draw back was that he didn't want to tell Hermione, or worst, see the look on her face when he would tell her about tearing an arrow out of his flesh.

He saw Ron and Hermione sigh in relief when he told them that his attempt to speak Parseltongue had failed.

"It makes sense, though, doesn't it? That you lost your ability to talk to snakes," said Hermione when he told them about his failed attempt to speak Parseltongue.

"It's sort of a confirmation, isn't it?" Ron added. "That You-Know-Who is really gone."

"I reckon we're allowed to say his name now, Ronald."

Normally, Harry would have smirked at Hermione's remark, but his head was hurting badly on the spot where he had received the fragment of a rock. His left arm was prickling disturbingly now. He could feel the blood leaking out of the wound like hot water. Thick drops of red were dripping from the tip of his fingers. The darkness of the evening was the only thing that kept Hermione from dragging him to the hospital wing with a gasp of horror. He had to finish his story quickly.

"No way!" Ron cried out incredulously when Harry described the plump outline of the centaur that had shot its arrow at him. "At least, we know it wasn't Firenze. I mean, it couldn't be, right? But I can't believe a centaur would shoot at you. Maybe they would shoot at Umbridge, or at Grawp if he misbehaved, but not at you. You're the good guy. Surely they would know that."

"I don't think it was anything personal," Harry continued. "But it definitely had something to do with the – … well, the _items_."

Ron nodded but offered no comments, nor did Hermione. They seemed to agree with Harry's unwillingness to mention the Wand and the Stone in their present surroundings. They were still at a good distance from the edge of the Black Lake and the near darkness made it difficult to spot anyone who might be eavesdropping. The top of the platform could be seen beyond the tall bushes, as it stood against the grey moonlit sky. Ron's family was probably waiting for them. Maybe George was still standing besides Fred's coffin, refusing to leave…

"I wonder if we're ready to go home yet," said Ron pensively.

"Harry," Hermione started with a small intake of breath, "when you said 'shot at you', did you mean… Did you actually get _shot_?"

Her eyes darted to his left arm which he was now holding to his waist as tightly as he could while still hanging on to the Elder Wand. He was about to reply that he needed to see Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible when he was cut off by a terrible crashing noise and a powerful red light coming from up ahead where the platform was. It was as though a red bolt of lightening had stricken near the Black Lake. They were momentarily blinded and when they looked up, the wooden structure could no longer be seen standing.

"Ron, wait!" yelled Hermione.

But Ron had already taken off at a run towards the edge of the lake where he knew that his family was.

"Come on!" said Hermione, pulling on Harry's shirt.

Her eagerness caused Harry to grunt in pain but he forced himself to take off at a run with her.

"It has to be George," panted Hermione. "Poor, George! I hope he hasn't done anything… Oh! It's just too awful to think about it!"

Harry's strength was wavering. He stumbled onwards as best as he could, but Hermione was running too fast for him.

"Come on!" she said, looking back at him.

"I can't," he said weakly. "I'm tired. You go on ahead."

It was like having to admit defeat, but the pain that was now shooting from his left shoulder to the tip of his fingers was making it hard for him to focus. He could not run. He simply didn't have the strength. He was only going to be a burden for Hermione. She had to go on without him. Ron needed her. _He's her boyfriend_, thought Harry. _They're together now._

"I'm not leaving you here," said Hermione, fairly panicked. "I can't…"

"Yes, you can. I've got the Invisibility Cloak and the Elder Wand. I'll be fine," he said stubbornly.

Hermione hesitated for a moment, and then she ran back towards Harry. When she came up to him, she took hold of his shirt with a jolt and started to pull him at a faster pace behind her. Harry had no choice but to follow with the little strength that he had left.

"If anything happens to you," she said quickly, "I'll never forgive myself."

Harry's mind was concentrated on keeping up with Hermione's pace therefore he replied nothing. The pain on his left arm was excruciating now and he knew that he would not be able to move it if he was attacked again. Sure enough, he had the Elder Wand in his wand hand, but to use it seemed to knock the wind out of him. There was tremendous power in that wand. He could feel it even as it lay dormant. He just wished that he knew a healing spell for his arm. He hated being useless, being weakened or injured all the time, always struggling, always fighting. His will kept him stumbling on, his body protesting with every step. Hermione was yanking at his shirt blindly, her full attention set on the scene in from of them. In any minute or so, he would collapse on the ground and probably faint. He had lost so much blood already. How long did it take for someone to bleed to death?

They heard the shouting before they saw what was happening.

"Leave me alone! You don't understand! He's gone!"

It was indeed George who was yelling on top of all of the other voices. The grief and anger were unmistakable. Hermione jerked on Harry's shirt once more, but this time he remained rooted on the spot.

"You'll go on faster without me," he said resolutely. When she hesitated again, he added: "Ron needs you."

She took off at a run and disappeared in the semi-darkness. Harry resumed his faltering walk towards the lake. He could hear more of what was going on.

"George, we'll get through it together," said Ron's voice pleadingly. "We're here for you, all of us…"

"Don't touch me! Go away! You don't get it, do you? I don't want to leave him! I can't!"

Harry could make out the scene now from where he stood half-hidden in the shadows. The platform had been blown apart and the black curtain lay on the grass. The wind was making ripples on it like little waves. The wooden beams were spread out on the remains of the shattered chairs. Mr Weasley was holding Mrs Weasley firmly into his arms and she was sobbing uncontrollably. The other Weasley children were standing in circle around George. All of them had drawn their wands. George was walking in circle and shouting at every one of them. He seemed at a complete loss, like a compass that cannot find the north anymore. Harry saw him fling himself towards the coffins in an act of desperation, but he was stopped abruptly by Bill who grabbed George's shoulders and pushed him back into the circle.

"You have to let go, Georgie," said Bill almost imperatively.

"Don't touch me! Stay away from me, all of you!"

"Fred knew what he was doing," cried Bill again.

"STOP SAYING THAT!" George shouted back. "STOP SAYING THAT! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!"

As he said this, a shiver ran through George's body and an outburst of energy swept the ground at his feet like a pulse. The others had to step back and cast a Shield Charm to protect their surroundings from the outbreak. George's magic had gone out of control. He had probably blasted the platform without intending to, just like Harry had blown up his Aunt Marge one summer in Privet Drive.

"He was in the DA with us," Ron stepped in. "He wouldn't have stayed behind. He wanted to fight!"

"What would you know about fighting, Ron?" bellowed George. "You weren't even _there_! You missed out on all the real fighting!"

"HOW DARE YOU!" shouted Ron on top of his lungs and loosing his countenance. "I WAS OUT THERE RISKING MY LIFE!"

"We all fought, George. We all did our part."

It was Ginny's voice.

As he stepped in closer, Harry saw her standing in front of the rows of coffins, tiny white flowers at her feet, with the wind blowing in her hair. She looked almost ghost-like. She hadn't drawn her wand. She wasn't yelling either.

"I'm going to miss him too," she said. "We always knew that there could be casualties. It's not fair that it had to be Fred."

"We knew what we were getting into when we signed up," Ron added, and Harry had to admire his effort to bring his voice down like his sister.

"What did we sign up for, Ron? Dumbledore's Army? The Order of the Phoenix? What difference did it make?"

"It made all the difference in the world!" Hermione joined in.

Harry had not seen her, standing in the background as she was. She was the only person who was not wearing a golden Weasley brooch. Her face was pale and resolute.

"We saw an injustice, and we choose to fight it," she put in, closing into the circle and taking a spot next to Ron. "Now we have to live with the consequences."

"What would you know about consequences? I have to live with the consequences!" George cried out and red sparks flew out of his wand menacingly.

"We're your family, George," said Mr Weasley, still holding his wife in his arms. "You're not alone, son."

"I AM ALONE! I'M ALONE NOW! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND, ALL OF YOU! YOU'LL NEVER UNDERSTAND!"

The flicker at the tip of his wand suddenly exploded and a jet of red light was sent crashing into a heap of broken wood.

Ron raised his wand and yelled "_Protego_!" pulling Hermione close to him by the wrist as he did so. A rainfall of splinters went crashing down on Ron's shield. Bill looked as though he was about to disarm George, but Mr Weasley pressed a hand on his son's arm, and Harry heard him say "he's got to let it out, Bill".

"It's okay to be angry, Georgie," said Ginny, still standing in front the coffins as though she was guarding them.

_She _is_ guarding them_, Harry thought. _She wants to make sure George doesn't damage them._

"THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!" George screamed. "WE WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE TOGETHER! TOGETHER! DON'T YOU SEE?"

"Oh, sweetheart!" sobbed Mrs Weasley.

"But it doesn't matter," said George suddenly in a hoarse and hostile voice that wasn't quite like his own. "There are ways. I can bring him back."

Everyone fell silent. They were all looking at their brother as though they could not recognise him anymore. He had said something dreadful and none of them knew how to react. Hermione's eyes darted towards Harry and he could see that her face had gone white.

"No spell can bring back the dead," said Bill, taking a step nearer.

"Really?" George replied, flaring up and raising his wand warningly at Bill. "We'll see about that. Why don't we give it a try right now?" He turned on his heels and came face to face with Ginny. However, George wasn't looking at her; he was staring at the rows of coffins behind her. His features had a strange and wild appearance now. "Better step aside, sis," he said threateningly.

Harry's reaction was fast and instinctive. He bellowed "_Expelliarmus_!" and George's wand shot into the air with so much force that the Weasley twin fell to his knees, grasping his wrist in pain.

"YOU!"

And Harry felt all the stares turn to him. George's eyes seemed to be burning with rage. He was pointing at Harry accusingly, struggling to his feet as he did so.

"HOW DARE YOU!" he shouted.

"Don't do this, George," said Harry in the same steady voice that Ginny had used. "The dead don't wish to be awakened. They've already moved on."

Harry tried to take a few steps closer but he found that he had barely enough strength to keep standing.

"Don't you talk to me like a child! You think that you know more than we do, don't you? If you're so smart, how come you couldn't finish off Voldemort before this happened?"

"Don't you take it out on Harry!" Ron let out.

Harry was grateful that Ron was speaking up for him, of course, but in his mind he couldn't be angry at George. Part of him was pondering the same questions over and over again: what could he have done more? And could he have done it sooner?

"Voldemort could not be killed, George," said Harry evenly, gathering his thoughts. "He had to be destroyed. He wasn't like us."

"Is that so?" George laughed maliciously. "Because that's not what you said in your speech. 'Voldemort started out as nothing more than what we are', and all that. I rather liked your speech, actually. I thought that you two rather had _a lot_ in common."

"How can you say that?" said Mrs Weasley despairingly.

"Come on, Harry!" said George scornfully. "You do like to show off your extraordinary powers, don't you? Same as Voldemort."

Harry felt as though he had received a blow in the face.

"Parseltongue, Harry?" Same as Voldemort."

"No! You don't understand! Tell him, Harry!" whimpered Hermione.

"The so-called visions? Am I the only one seeing the connection here? They're all saying it, Harry. You-Know-Who wanted to kill you himself and he wouldn't let anyone do it for him. Why do you think? You were almost the same person, weren't you? You had to die together."

George was laughing now, but it was a cruel noise. There was such madness on his delicate face.

"That's why you couldn't finish him off sooner, wasn't it?" George went on. "Afraid you were going to miss your parade if you died too? Well, while you were making up your mind, people were dying, or perhaps you didn't notice?"

_Smack_!

A giant, leathery fist had appeared out of thin air with for only purpose to punch George straight on the nose. It then vanished into a cloud of white smoke and Ginny appeared through it with her hands on her hips, looking livid.

"Shame on you, George Weasley!" She said accusingly. "You're a stupid _git_, you know that?"

George seemed to recoil as his sister pointed her wand at his bleeding nose.

"I should give you a few extra pustules to go with that," she said warningly. "What do you think Fred would say if he heard you talking to Harry like that? You gave him a brooch! You and Fred! Harry's practically your brother!"

"I just wanted to know how he did it, coming back from the dead and all that" said George weakly, pinching his nose to stop the flow of blood. "Ron and Hermione know!" he added, gesturing towards them with his free hand.

"Well, maybe now they have a good reason for not telling you, dumb-ass," Ginny pointed out smartly.

"But he survived, Gin! He survived the Killing Curse more than just once! Don't you want to know how?"

Ginny glanced back at Harry and their eyes met. He knew that if she asked him now, he would not be able to tell her. The tale was too dark altogether: Voldemort's soul inside of him, the snake pouring out of Bathilda Bagshot's body, the locket pulsing against his heart, the chain tightening around his neck, the green light filling his head, the painful knob on his chest, the Resurrection Stone in his pocket. He could not tell them yet. It was too soon. Ginny seemed to understand because she broke their eye contact before Harry could reply anything and she redirected her attention to George instead.

"It won't bring back Fred," she said softly.

"I'll turn back time!" George whimpered. "I'll save him! I'll find a way! Then the both of us will be immortal together! We'll never die again! If Harry can do it, so can we! We can live forever! We can be together forever!"

As he said this, all the madness seemed to fade away from his face and tears began to stream down his cheeks in a continuous flow. He pressed both of his hands on his eyes and started to cry without restraint. Ginny pulled him in a tight embrace, stroking his hair, murmuring gently.

Harry could not say anything and he knew that he didn't need to. This was once of those moments when he felt like a stranger among the Weasleys. It was their grief that Harry had seen, not only George's loss. Harry was merely a witness of their sorrow. All his thoughts were bent on Ginny now. He felt more drawn to her than he had never thought possible. He wanted to feel her arms wrapped around him. He wanted to share this moment with her. But she was far away from him, out of his reach. He could only watch her from afar. He saw her as though she was surrounded by a bright light, and everything around her was growing darker, and darker…

He heard a voice cry out his name. Then the last thing he was conscious of was his own shallow breathing and his blood trickling through the fingers of his right hand.


	5. Chapter 5

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter five: The Stone and the Wand 

He was experiencing it all through a semi-conscious haze. He was lying on his back on the cool grass. Faces were staring at him from above. It was dark all around.

"Bill's gone to the castle to fetch Madam Pomfrey."

"Oh, dear! He's loosing a lot of blood."

"Harry? Can you hear me?"

"He needs to be kept warm."

"I think it's coming from his arm."

"I see it. We should apply some pressure to stop the bleeding."

Then a sharp pain ran throughout the left side of his body and his eyes snapped open, but he could not get them to focus.

"Harry! Can you hear us? No, don't try to get up."

"The – the bag… and the – the Wand," he managed to say through clenched teeth.

He was searching the grass with his right hand. He had to make sure the three objects were safely hidden. He wasn't sure why, but it was vital, more important than his physical pain.

"I've got them, Harry," said Hermione reassuringly. "I'm putting the Wand in the bag, and I'm keeping the bag with me, okay?"

With a sigh of relief, Harry allowed his head to rest on the ground.

"Feels like – I've been hit by – a Bludger," he said with an attempt at a smile.

"Honestly, it's not funny."

Footsteps were coming their way.

"We couldn't find Madam Pomfrey," Harry heard Mr Weasley panting. "She's left for St.Mungo's with the injured. Castle's deserted. Never realised it was this late. We're lucky Horace was around."

"Professor Slughorn," Hermione whispered in Harry's ear as though she had anticipated his question.

"Harry, dear boy! I'm glad you're conscious. This might not be as bad as it looks."

"Professor, please, can you help him?"

"On his left arm, Professor."

"_Reducto_!"

With a minor prickle, Harry felt the left side of his shirt rip apart.

"Cold," he said, unable to suppress a groan of pain.

"What are you doing, Professor?"

It was Ginny speaking.

"Fortunately, Severus' store is very well equipped," replied the professor readily. "We'll have Mr Potter sorted out in no time."

Harry could hear the sound of many glass phials jiggling by Slughorn's side.

"I asked what you were _doing_, Professor," insisted Ginny imperatively.

"Certainly, of course, the ever curious Ginevra Weasley," said Slughorn. He sounded rather flattered. "Well, I'm going to pour this black liquid on the wound, after I've added three drops of this other one here to the mixture. The concoction will react instantly by removing any undesirable body that might have penetrated the flesh. After that, I'll be able to seal the wound with the water-like substance of this other phial. Who needs a Healer when you have a Potions Master, wouldn't you say?"

"You still haven't told me the ingredients, Professor," cut in Ginny. Her tone was stern.

Harry wasn't sure, but he thought he saw the thin line of Ginny's wand pointing at Slughorn' large chest.

"Dear Heavens, child!" Slughorn breathed out. "This is hardly the time!"

"Ginny Weasley!" cried her mother.

"I don't trust him," Ginny answered back as though her word was final.

"Think of Harry," begged Mr Weasley.

"The ingredients, _sir_."

"He's going to pass out, Ginny!" squealed Hermione. "_Please_, Professor…"

"Very well, very well," offered Slughorn, a little uneasily. "This here is brewed spider venom, a very rare kind, very expensive too. Harry would know about it. Three drops of unicorn blood as counter agent. Then an infusion of mostly Mandrake roots to secure the injury. Good enough?"

"It's okay, Ginny," said Harry weakly. He didn't know how Aragog's venom was going to cure him, but at least he knew the virtues of unicorn blood.

"Just do it, then."

Ginny was kneeling besides him now. He could feel her finger tips on his hair.

"This is going to hurt, I'm afraid."

It was like having hot lava poured unto his skin. His whole body seemed to contract with pain. He tried to concentrate on the warm hand that Ginny had laid on his forehead. It was the only thing that kept him conscious.

"I see something. Is that…?"

"Yes, I've got it."

"We're good now. The infusion of Mandrakes will do the rest."

The other liquid was cool and soothing. The pain in his left arm seemed to slowly melt away. He could move his fingers now. His eyes could focus again. He was looking into many concerned faces.

"Thanks, Professor," he said after only a few seconds.

He was trying to pull himself up on his elbows.

"Don't try to stand yet, Mr Potter. You've had a rough night."

"Been through worst, though, right?" said Ron a little edgily.

Harry had just seen Mrs Weasley's pale and red-eyed face and he could not bare the idea of causing her more distress, so he did his best to sound cheerful.

"Like falling off a broom, mate."

"We're all set," declared Bill suddenly. "McGonagall lifted the Anti-Apparition spell for ten minutes starting now. We can leave as soon as we're ready."

"Give him something to eat, then plenty of rest," said Slughorn to Ron's mom.

Ginny had not left Harry's side and now he could clearly see the look of distrust on her face as her eyes darted towards the Potions Master. Her glare did not leave him until he had vanished with a faint _pop_.

"I hate Apparating," she said drearily, returning her attention to Harry.

"I know what you mean."

"All together, then," Mr Weasley called out, laying a hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Let's go home."

When Harry woke up much later he was laying under warm covers in Ron's room at The Burrow. The familiar surroundings included a waving picture of the Chudley Cannons Quidditch team and the pile of books that Hermione had discarded when she had been packing in the beginning of last year. A bright sunlight was coming through the window and Harry could hear the steady clattering of plates being put away magically into the downstairs kitchen cupboards. It was only when he had put on his glasses that he noticed the small and skeletal figure waiting patiently in a shadowy corner of the room.

"Good morning, Kreacher," said Harry courteously as he sat up against the pillows not without some difficulty. The muscles of his left arm and shoulder were a little sore.

"Kreacher has been watching to make sure that master gets enough rest," said the house-elf, bowing its head. "So young to have been through so much. Master must rest now."

There was a loud breaking noise coming from downstairs, followed by Mrs Weasley's immediate fussing. Harry suspected that the clattering plates were now probably all lying on the floor in pieces. Kreacher's glassy eyes darted towards the half-opened door. The elf was shaking his head disapprovingly.

"You don't have to stay here anymore, Kreacher," offered Harry, seeing that the old creature seemed distraught by so much racket.

But Kreacher seemed intent on helping his master to be seated comfortably on the bed. With long emaciated fingers and slow movements, he straightened the covers up to Harry's waist and folded them neatly on his lap. Then he picked up a white pillow from the floor and placed it caringly behind Harry's back.

"Thanks," said Harry appreciatively.

The house-elf took a few steps back, retreating in the shadowy corner again. Harry could not help but notice how old and fragile Kreacher looked. Yet there was a new sort of pride about him ever since Harry had given him Regulus Black's fake locket. The house-elf had carried it like a banner into the battle at Hogwarts. Harry was forced to wonder whether or not Kreacher had ever been shown any compassion or gentleness in Sirius' house. The thought seemed too cruel. After all, his kind was treated as servants in many households. Sirius had only behaved towards Kreacher has he had been taught to behave.

"What am I going to do with you?" said Harry, thinking out loud.

"Kreacher will do as master commands."

It didn't seem fair to order Kreacher around after the loyalty and nobility that the house-elf had shown so recently.

"But what do you _want_ to do?"

"Kreacher will do as master…"

"No, Kreacher," cut in Harry as gently as possible. "I am asking you to tell me what you would like for yourself now. You have to tell me the truth because I am your master, get it?"

The look of admiration and fondness in Kreacher's eyes was so poignant that Harry felt weighed down.

"I want to free you Kreacher," he said tentatively, hoping that the idea would not upset the old elf. "You could work at Hogwarts with Winky and the others. Would this make you happy?"

The house-elf bowed low, his pointy nose touching the floor as he did so.

"Kreacher must speak freely, because his master says so. Then Kreacher must say that he does not want to be set free and work at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Harry had expected as much. The elf was just too old to accept such a radical change of lifestyle. He had been a servant, a quiet and discreet one, for the whole of his existence. He couldn't ask Kreacher to do anything that he didn't want to do. Harry was just hoping that the old house-elf didn't have in mind to trail at his side permanently. He had a hunch that Hermione would not accept an arrangement of that sort.

"Then what do you want, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher wants to serve in the house of Harry Potter until the end of his days," the old creature said almost imploringly.

"You want to go back to Grimmauld Place, you mean?" asked Harry.

It was still Sirius' house to him, but he was nonetheless planning to settle down there. The idea had been growing on his mind since the day of the funeral. The house was slightly sinister, of course, but it only needed the presence of living beings, and perhaps a little inspirational decorating.

"Yes, Kreacher wants to return to the house of Harry Potter," answered the elf after some reflection. "But Kreacher wants Harry Potter to live there as well."

Harry could tell that the old creature had made the request with some difficulty. It was, after all, very irregular for a house-elf to express any sort of desire.

"Then we have a lot of cleaning to do," said Harry gladly.

Kreacher bowed really low again and Harry thought that he saw the tiny outline of a tear fall to the floor.

"Kreacher will serve in the house of Harry Potter," repeated the house-elf with a touch of pride. "Kreacher is deeply, deeply honoured, sir."

His excess of reverence was making Harry quite uncomfortable.

"I guess you can go back right now. Start without me, if you'd like," he said timidly. "I'll join you shortly."

"Yes, master. Of course, master. Kreacher will make the house clean and proper again for master. Very noble, very kind master. Will master want breakfast?"

"Yes, please," replied Harry wholeheartedly now that the house-elf seemed satisfied.

He was glad to see the Kreacher reappear a few minutes later with a tray full of his favourite fruits, toasts, cereals, freshly-pressed orange juice and a steaming cup of coffee. The food was excellent and it seemed to give him back his strength as Lupin's chocolate had once done. Harry was halfway through a large piece of cheese when Ron came in, pushing the door slowly at first, and then hastily when he saw that Harry was awake.

"Are those strawberries? Where did you get those? It smells excellent in here."

Without further ado, Ron hopped in at the foot of Harry's bed, helping himself to a handful of cheese curds as soon as he had settled comfortably against the wall.

"Kreacher's been here, then?" he said, taking in the components of Harry's breakfast tray. "Mum wouldn't make little flowers with orange peels like that. I don't think her heart was into it this morning anyway. We had a scoop of sticky oatmeal. This is much better."

Ron was now picking Harry's strawberries with relish.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked without much thinking as he was spreading honey over his toast.

"She went to see her parents. I can't blame her. It's a little grim in here. Anyway, she has to sort them out, put their memory right. She'll be back soon. The three You-Know-What are here, though."

Ron glanced furtively at the empty hallway, then he flicked his wand and the door closed abruptly and with a loud bang.

"Stealthy," commented Harry.

"We don't all have your talent for subtlety. _Muffliato_," said Ron lazily pointing his wand at the door again.

The room was now impervious to any kind of eavesdropping.

"So where are they, the Hallows?"

Ron jumped off the bed and pulled a large cardboard box labelled 'Ronald's souvenirs' from under it.

"We each have one," he explained to Harry. "We're supposed to keep our stuff in those boxes, but mostly they're just booby trapped. I tried to get into Charlie's once and a kind of tentacle-thing tried to strangle me. I reckon it was Devil's Snare. I used to keep Scabbers in mine, and then I had a nasty _Ferocactus Pilosus_," he said quite fondly. "You have to feed those with human hair, but I haven't been around much to care for it so it's just a useless plant now. Doesn't do much, really…"

Harry was staring at the cardboard box. He was rather hoping that it would try to bite Ron's hand off to protect its content, but it didn't look as though anything like that was likely to happen. The voice that was speaking in his head was startled and slightly upset. _Ron's keeping the Hallows… in _there

Ron opened the box carefully. There was the green cactus with grey and white hair-like spikes. Harry thought that it looked quite threatening even in its present undermined state, but other than that there seemed to be no protective charm or enchantment surrounding the box, just as Harry feared. Nevertheless, Ron did not use his hands to remove the cactus. He pulled out his wand instead and said "_Wingardium Leviosa_". The plant rose at the level of Harry's bed and fell to the floor with a thud, spilling dirt on Ron's old rug. Ron was then able to pull out the neatly folded Invisibility Cloak and set it on the bedside table. He then picked up the box and laid it besides Harry.

"Hermione made me swear I wouldn't touch the Stone and the Wand," he said awkwardly as he returned to sit at the foot of the bed. "I don't really know what she means by that, but I wasn't going to argue with her. That never works for me. Anyway, it's all yours, isn't it?"

Harry did not reply and took a moment to consider the content of the box. His wand had been placed in there as well and he pulled it out without much ceremony. It looked rather insignificant next to the other one. The Elder Wand was longer and had a much more complicated composition. The wood was natural-coloured and had an elaborate pattern of knots and twirls.

"How did it feel, using that wand?" asked Ron. He was staring intently at the Elder Wand just as Harry was.

"It's very powerful," said Harry, remembering the jet of magical energy that had knocked the wind out of him more than once. "It was as though it could read my thoughts, and also my emotions."

"Well, that would make non-verbal spells easy, wouldn't it?"

"Too easy," replied Harry pensively.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean _dangerously_ easy," Harry started to explain as he was recollecting the events of the previous evening. "It reacts instantly, before you even have time to think about the words of the spell. To control a wand like that, _totally_ control, would be almost impossible. I can understand why Dumbledore agreed that I should put it away."

"Dumbledore could handle it. Why couldn't you?"

"Accidents happen," answered Harry in a matter-of-fact tone. "Remember my Aunt Marge, the summer before our third year?"

Ron grinned widely, and then the smirk on his face faded into a frown. "You're not putting the Wand away because of your Aunt Marge, are you? I mean, you've done a bit of growing up and controlling your emotions ever since. You learned Occlumency and all that."

"There's still the chance that I might loose my temper," said Harry darkly.

"You're not a teenager anymore," Ron snapped back.

"It's not just that, Ron. What if something bad was happening to Ginny? What if someone was hurting her? Think about what you felt when Hermione was being tortured. How would you react?"

The look of anguish on Ron's face was almost unbearable to watch. Harry had never seen Ron as out of his mind as when they were both locked in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, listening to Hermione's cries of pain.

"You see what I mean by 'loosing control'?" continued Harry. "When stuff like that happens, sometimes we think things that we don't really mean."

"You mean like 'die, you bastard'?" said Ron sarcastically.

"A good example," Harry agreed. "The Wand won't wait for you to make up your mind on whether or not you actually want to cast that spell. It will just do it for you. Anyway, I think it could."

Ron didn't look entirely convinced.

"But my dad always says that the wizard controls the wand, not the other way around," he said thoughtfully.

"The wand doesn't have a will of its own. But if the one holding it looses control of his emotions, then it could do nasty things. I think that's how it works."

Ron leaned his head back on the wall, and then started to pick the last strawberries from the breakfast tray. He seemed to be considering what Harry had just said very seriously.

"I don't think I have that kind of control," he concluded as he gulped down the last fruit.

"It wouldn't matter anyway," replied Harry, picking up the Elder Wand and thrusting it under the Cloak on the bedside table. "You're not its master. And to be honest, I don't think I have that kind of control either."

"You're really not going to use it, then? You're going to hide it in Ignotus Peverell's tomb?"

Harry nodded. Now that he had used the wand more than once, now that he knew its power, it was becoming more pressing to hide it. He felt a growing responsibility towards it, as Dumbledore probably had. The idea of it falling in the wrong hands was unsettling, almost fearsome. However, he wasn't sure anymore that Godric's Hollow was the safest place for it. He had not investigated his ancestry at all. Perhaps the connection between the Peverells and the Potters was too obvious. _Where, then, if not in Godric's Hollow?_

"What about that?" Ron cut in, bringing Harry out of deep thinking.

Ron was pointing at the tiny and black Resurrection Stone. At the same moment, there was more stirring in the house and the sound of doors opening and closing. Harry hastily removed the Stone from the box and stuffed it in a dirty sock that had been lying on the floor besides his bed. He then hid the rolled up sock under the Cloak and next to the Wand. The memory of the attack in the Dark Forest had come vividly to Harry's mind. Was The Burrow a safe place? How long could he keep the Hallows hidden under Ron's bed without endangering the Weasleys? The next arrow could very well kill someone. He had just been lucky.

He had been looking forward to some peace and quiet, but there was no time. The next step had to be taken rapidly if he wanted to protect Ron and his family. Hiding the Hallows had to be the top priority.

"I think that the Stone and the Wand must be hidden separately," whispered Harry, glancing nervously at the door. "And soon. We have to get our heads together and figure out where."

"You mean that we should wait for Hermione to tell us where to hide it, right? Cause if you ask me…"

"We can't keep them, Ron," Harry cut in crossly.

He was feeling increasingly anxious and he had no more patience to convince Ron of what was to be done.

"I know that, mate! I was going to say that Hermione has probably already figured out ten hiding places by now, so I'm not going to bother about it until she gets back. But of course I don't want to keep them. As far as I'm concerned, they're your things anyway."

There were many noises throughout the house now. The whole household was probably starting the day. Harry wasn't too happy about the delay, but Hermione's input would probably be crucial as it usually was.

"Alright," said Harry half-heartedly. "We'll wait for Hermione, then."

"People always assume that I'm up to no good," complained Ron, shaking his head.

"Sorry. Bad habit."

"Anyway, I'll feel better when these things are hidden for good."

Harry glanced back at the bedside table and at the three magical objects sitting on top of it. He didn't want to lay down on Hermione the responsibility of picking the right hiding places for the Stone and the Wand, but he had to admit that he couldn't wait to hear what her ideas were on the subject. For now, though, they would have to return to the cardboard box and under Ron's bed.

"When is she coming back, anyway?" asked Harry.

"She said to give her three days," said Ron. "And I'm supposed to write to her to tell her how you're doing."

"You can tell her I'm fine," offered Harry, not caring to hide the tone of annoyance in his voice. After all, he had been through much worst. "I was probably lucky that Slughorn was there, though."

"Ginny reckons he's a git," replied Ron as though it was an obvious sign of untrustworthiness.

Harry was levitating the _Ferocactus Pilosus_ back to its previous location.

"Yeah, I wanted to ask her about that," he said. "Tell her I'll be down in a bit."

But when Ron left the bedroom and closed the door behind him, Harry's thoughts dwelled on Ginny. And now he had the perfect excuse to get together with her on her own.


	6. Chapter 6

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD

Chapter six

Half and hour later, Harry was almost ready to go down to the kitchen where Ron was probably waiting for him. He had put on his jeans and one of the many jumpers that Mrs Weasley had knitted for him. The Cloak, the Elder Wand and the Stone were back in Ron's souvenir box under the bed. Harry's own phoenix-cored wand was in his pocket and he had pinned the gold and red brooch on his left shoulder. The lump in the back of his head was still a little sensible therefore he had given up brushing his hair. As for the wound on his left arm, all traces of it seemed to have thankfully vanished. The only injury that was troubling Harry at the moment was the black mark on the middle of his chest on the exact spot where he had been hit by the Killing Curse. It had been a hardly significant little dot at first when he had noticed it the day of the funeral. Now it was as big as a fingerprint and it looked as though his skin had been tinted with dark ink. It wasn't painful but it was nonetheless a bit disturbing and slightly uncanny.

Harry was making a mental note to discuss it with Hermione when he noticed that George had been standing in the doorway of Ron's bedroom. He was holding the string of an Extendable Ear in his hand.

"I've been listening to what they're saying downstairs," he uttered dryly before Harry could speak. "McGonagall was here. Slughorn told her that you were attacked by a centaur. She came to know if it was true. She didn't sound too happy about it. She said that she would come back to talk to you and then she left. Ginny reckons the centaur's innocent but that we shouldn't let Slughorn near you. Ron won't say anything and dad's giving him a hard time because he's so secretive. That's pretty much it."

Harry stood very still, still staring at the Extendable Ear in George's hand. He could not help but recall the look of madness on the twin's face the night before. George had been ready to do terrible things to bring back his brother, even dark magic. How would he react if he knew what lay in Ron's souvenir box at this very moment? Then it occurred to Harry that the spell Ron had used on the door might not have been enough to keep George from eavesdropping with the help of an Extendable Ear. Harry's heart sank lower as the next inevitable question sprang to his mind. What if a person was the only thing that stood between George and the possibility of bringing back Fred? What would George do?

Harry tried to push the idea out of his brain. _George can be trusted. It was just grief. He wouldn't hurt anyone, not even to bring back Fred._ But another voice in the back of his mind seemed to be filling him with doubt. He had been attacked twice already, all in the space of a single evening. What would it be next? How far could a person go to bring back a loved one from the dead?

"You should talk to McGonagall," said George in an afterthought. "If you were attacked by a centaur on the school ground, she's going to have to report this to the Ministry."

"I will," answered Harry hastily. "I don't want the centaurs to get in trouble. It was dark. It could have been anything or anyone shooting that arrow."

"Did you know McGonagall's the new Hogwarts Headmistress?"

"That's good news. Not much of a surprise, though."

"She has a lot to live by. I wouldn't want to be in her shoes right now. Hogwarts is a real mess. Parents are afraid to send their children back. She has to make it safe again."

"She'll do alright," said Harry conclusively, hoping that his tone would close the conversation.

But George remained in the doorway, so Harry turned his back to him and started to straighten Ron's room, trying to appear busy. He made a pile out of various clothes and picked up leftovers from the breakfast tray. He only wanted George to leave so that he could pull out the cardboard box from under the bed and make sure that the three objects were accounted for. Soon enough, there was little left to do, and George was still waiting at the door. It didn't look as though he was going to leave, so Harry decided that it would be best to simply return to Ron's room later to check on the content of the box.

"So… Ron and Hermione. About time, wouldn't you say?" said Harry casually, brushing the crumps off the cover of Ron's bed with his hands.

"Fred and I had a bet," said George in a matter-of-fact tone. "I said that Ron would kiss Hermione first, and Fred said that it would be Hermione doing the first kissing."

Harry's mind raced back to the moment of Ron and Hermione's first embrace in the midst of the battle.

"Fred would have won, I think," he said, half-smiling. "But maybe you should ask Ron. It was a little confusing."

George nodded but he did not reply. His sudden quietness made Harry quite uneasy. He was not entirely sure that it was a good idea to mention Fred at the pass tense. Somehow, it seemed to underline his absence, and Harry wasn't sure that the surviving twin was ready to handle it.

"It's like having a piece of your soul ripped apart."

Harry's insides turned cold and he could not avoid seeing the look of pain on George's face.

"I don't expect anyone to understand, not even you," George went on. "I keep hearing his voice in my head, but when I wake up he isn't there anymore and it hurts so much. I keep wondering if I'll ever be happy again. And everyone just keeps telling that it's all normal, that healing takes time, and all that stuff. It's very annoying, isn't it?"

"Tell me about it," replied Harry with some difficulty.

"Anyway," continued George, brushing his hair nervously with his hand, "I guess I want to thank you for stopping me, you know, making zombies."

Harry merely shrugged. He felt almost ashamed of the things he had thought earlier about George, but he couldn't share his feelings nor think of anything consoling to say. Clearly, George didn't need to hear anymore of the usual polite comforting sentences that people always come up with. All that Harry could do was to share his personal experience which seemed very insignificant next to emptiness that George was now going to face every day.

"When Sirius died," he said tentatively. "I trashed Dumbledore's office. I yelled at him and I broke stuff."

"Did it feel better afterwards?" George asked, half-smiling.

"Not really."

George's eyes filled with tears and Harry couldn't bear to look at him anymore. But they were facing one another and there was no escaping it.

"I just wanted to… I wanted to bring him back, you know? I thought it must be possible. And they're all saying these things about you. So I thought that maybe you had the answer, and that I could force it out of you. But it's all laughable, really. I mean, just look at you. You're hardly what I'd call indestructible."

"I don't look immortal?" Harry asked, trying to sound cheerful.

"You look more like a zombie, actually," said George jokingly.

Harry couldn't tell what came over him. He wanted to say the right words of comfort. He wanted to ease George's pain. He wanted to hear him laugh again. What he said came out of his mouth like a stream as though it was some unspeakable truth that he had meant to say for a long time.

"It was my mother's protection that saved me. She gave her life protecting me, and it left a trace in my blood. After that, Voldemort's curse backfired and he lost his power. It was old magic. He didn't see it coming. Even now, I still have that protection, but I can die all the same. I'm not immortal or anything. And I didn't come back from the dead either. It came very close, but I never actually died in that clearing. Dumbledore said to me once that no magic can bring back the dead, and I reckon it's true. And it wouldn't be right, either. Am I making any sense?"

George seemed in shock for a short moment, and then his face changed and he managed a smile that was weak but sincere.

"I guess you aren't that much of a mystery anymore, then," he said playfully. "That's too bad, because I think that's why my sister likes you."

"Ginny likes me because I'm a mystery?" asked Harry, feeling a little perplexed.

George took a step forward and pressed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder.

"My sister likes you because you're Ron's best friend, mate."

And on those puzzling words, George winked teasingly at Harry and left the room.

Harry was still pondering about the meaning of George's last sentence when he entered the kitchen where Ron was sitting alone at the table, hunched over a long thinly-written piece of parchment. Harry was so absorbed in his thoughts that he barely noticed it when Mrs Weasley hugged him and forced a large cup of coffee into his hands.

"Oh dear! Look at your hands!" said Ron's mom all of a sudden.

Before Harry could realise what was going on, she had removed the cup of coffee and was scrutinising the palms of his hands with a horrified expression.

"I haven't had time to take care of that," he said timidly.

"Dittany will do the trick. Give it two or three hours, and your hands will be as good as new."

"Two to three _hours_?"

But there was no arguing with Mrs Weasley. Soon enough, Harry was sitting besides Ron with both of his hands completely soaked in a bowl of mint-smelling liquid.

"News from Hermione?"

To Harry's surprise, Ron very hastily removed the parchment from the table and rolled it with both hands until it became a very tight little scroll.

"Didn't mean to interrupt," said Harry, grinning.

Ron's face was a light shade of pink.

"Hermione's been telling me about her parents. Did you know that they didn't want her to go to Hogwarts at first? They bought her a brand-new com-pitter, hoping that it would change her mind. She could have gone to any school in England."

"_Computer_, Ron," Harry corrected him, trying not to laugh.

"Anyway, she wanted to study science. She wasn't convinced that she was a witch at all. She says that the Hogwarts brochure isn't very good compared to the ones that came in from Muggle schools. But apparently they send a copy of _Hogwarts: a History_ along with the letter to the Muggleborns. And it's that book that convinced her to choose the School of Witchcraft of Wizardry instead of sciences."

"Which makes us appreciate that annoying book a whole lot more," commented Harry.

"It's still excessively dull," said Ron pointedly. "But can you imagine Hermione in school with Muggles? I mean, she's the greatest witch of our age."

"And she would probably be just as exceptional in the Muggle world, Ron, dear," Mrs Weasley put in as she was checking Harry's hands.

"It would have been a bloody waste of talent, if you ask me," Ron retorted with a meaningful look at Harry.

"I think you're in love, Ron."

Harry felt his heart jump in his chest as Ginny entered the room. She was fully dressed in a long black cloak with her red hair elegantly tied back. Percy was standing right besides her, dressed in black as well and with a solemn air.

"Where are you going?" asked Harry, a little taken aback.

"Remember Penelope Clearwater?" said Ginny.

Harry nodded even though he had only a vague memory of the Slytherin girl that Percy had dated during Harry and Ron's second year.

"Her father was missing. They found his body a couple of days ago and the funeral is being held today. I didn't know her much, but her brother Martin was in my year and in Gryffindor. Everyone is going to be there."

Harry felt a little crestfallen. He had been looking forward to spending an entire day with Ginny. Now he was realising that she had other obligations, just like he did.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, it's okay."

She bent forward to kiss him lightly on the lips and Harry's world seemed to shrink again to a bubble with nothing but the two of them in it. When he looked up, he thought that he saw Ginny exchange a momentous glare with her mother.

"What's wrong?" uttered Harry, speaking to her ear.

"It's not important," she replied, now voluntarily ignoring her mother's stare. "We'll be back before dinner. Will you still be here?"

"What? Of course I'll be here."

He wanted to hug her, to pull her close to him and never let go, but he was tied to a bowl of smelly Dittany. All that he could do was to stare at her as she left through the front door with Percy following close behind.

Mrs Weasley was now busily going through the mail and Ron had escaped into the living room to finish his reading of Hermione's letter. Harry was therefore left alone with his thought and George's words resounding in his mind with increasing persistence. _Ginny likes me because I'm Ron's best friend? That doesn't mean anything. She wouldn't go out with me just because it's convenient. Ginny is not like that. She could have any other guy… _

But the idea of Ginny standing in front of an endless line of guys all waiting for the opportunity to go out with her was not at all comforting to Harry.


	7. Chapter 7

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD

Chapter seven

It was the middle of the afternoon when Mrs Weasley declared that Harry was now free of the bowl of Dittany. It then took Harry several minutes to find exactly where Ron had been hiding. His red-haired friend had not been back to the kitchen since Ginny and Percy's departure, and Harry suspected Hermione's letter to be the cause of Ron's absence.

"There you are," said Harry as he pushed open the door to Ron's room.

Ron was lazily sitting on top of his bed, flipping through the pages of a thick book with a black cover.

"Hermione said to keep a close watch on the box when she left," explained Ron matter-of-factly. He then turned a page a little aggressively and let out a deep sigh after which he added: "She also says that she wants us to present her with a list of all the places where we could hide your _souvenirs_."

The tone of annoyance was unmistakable. Harry wasn't sure if he should recoil to the kitchen and to the bowl of Dittany, or if he should smile and be glad that Ron and Hermione's dating had not altered their friendship. Their constant bickering ought to be a sign that their relationship was back to a normal level.

"She's giving us homework, huh?" said Harry sympathetically. "I bet she's just trying to keep us busy."

Ron almost ripped off another page of the book.

"She's got one or two things to learn about 'time off'," he mumbled under his breath.

Then he dropped a piece of parchment on Harry's lap.

"That's all I've got. What do you think?"

Harry scanned through Ron's list briefly. His friend had written down the following:

_Godric's Hollow (which tomb?)_

_Gringotts (which vault?)_

_Hogwarts (Room of Requirement? Chamber of Secrets?)_

_Ministry__ of Magic (Department of Mysteries?)_

_Grimmauld Place (too obvious)_

_Shell Cottage (too obvious)_

_Hagrid's Hut (too dangerous)_

"It's not a bad list," said Harry, trying not to sound too surprised. "It's more or less what I had in mind."

Ron was still rummaging through the thick black book.

"They're all too obvious," he said grimly. "They're all places where we've gone to recently. Hermione says 'let's go some place we've never been too'."

As he said this, Ron pointed his finger at a long scroll of parchment containing Hermione's thin hand-writing. Harry could see the exact sentence that Ron had just quoted followed by several exclamation points. Hermione had evidently given her instructions in code in the letter intended to Ron. Harry could not help but marvel at her ease when dealing with secret matters.

"'Some place we've never been to'," repeated Harry, a little confounded. "I was thinking of something a little more meaningful. It's got to be a hiding place that we can keep an eye on, which means that it has to be at least familiar. I don't want to choose a place at random."

"Don't ask me," replied Ron a little aggressively. "I'm just good for doing research."

Ron closed the book with a loud snap and picked up another one that was lying besides him along with a handful of candy wrappers and several other books.

"What are you researching on?" Harry inquired. He was beginning to think that the source of Ron's frustration was not the small list that Harry was holding.

As an answer, Ron pointed at another paragraph of Hermione's letter.

_By the way, my parents want to know everything __about "Destina Nobilis". It's a fascinating story, very ancient, but I can't seem to recall all the details and I want to do it justice. I wonder if I could ask you to sum it up for me and send it by owl as soon as you can. I'm sure I've read it in one of the books I left at your house. My parents would really appreciate it. Ask Harry to help you. I'm sure he won't mind. _

"What's _Destina Nobilis_?" asked Harry as he was reading the paragraph again. "I've never heard that expression before. Is it a spell?"

"Beats me," snapped Ron. "I've been looking through her books for _hours_."

"Well I can help you out now," said Harry half-heartedly, picking up a book at random. "It's got to be in one of them if Hermione says so."

"That one is in Runes, mate," Ron cut in.

Harry chose another book, a large red one, and started to flip through its pages just as annoyingly as Ron was. This was hardly what he had had in mind to do for the remaining of the day. He had been looking forward to a little peace and quiet with Ginny. But since she was not around, he wanted to take time off simply to rest. He didn't feel like putting his brain to work. He was still tired and sore, and now he was concerned about the mark on his chest, and that was all the worries that he felt capable to endure at the moment. Whatever Hermione had in mind, he was sure that it could wait until her return. In any case, making the list of hiding places for the Stone and the Wand seemed much more important then researching about a story that Hermione couldn't recall in detail. And Harry was not sure that he could add anything to the list that Ron had already written down.

After a full hour of flipping through more books, a part of Harry's brain was starting to think that Hermione might have given them a job to do just to keep them from wandering around.

"Another five minutes of this pointless searching and I'm going to drop dead of boredom," said Ron, yawning loudly.

"When is she coming back, anyway?" asked Harry, stretching his arms over his head.

"I don't know exactly. She says that she wants to spend a little more time with her parents. She wants to make sure that she reversed the Memory Spell properly."

"It must have been tough for her," said Harry after some thought.

Ron's expression changed all of a sudden to one of complete bewilderment.

"_Tough_ is hardly the word I would use, mate," said Ron, staring at him almost accusingly. "It tore her apart what she had to do to her parents to protect them. It was more than just tough. It hurt her to the point where she couldn't even cry about it anymore. She only pretended to be alright because we needed her to be."

"I never thought…" Harry began to say. He was unexpectedly feeling very guilty.

"Of course you didn't," Ron cut in. "It's not your fault, mate. You haven't got parents. But Hermione had to shot her mom and dad out of her life for an entire year. And she was worried that she might have performed the Memory Charm wrong. They didn't even recognise her when she went back. They called her a freak when she told them who and what she was. It took her hours to put them right. There was always a chance that they might end up like Lockhart if she failed. She's convinced that there will be side-effects and that's why she doesn't know when she'll be back."

Harry was speechless. He had never thought about Hermione's action from that perspective. He had been so absorbed by their mission that he had not even noticed if it was affecting her. She must have been really miserable, and yet she never showed it. Had Ron seen that she was troubled? Had he been able to comfort her?

Suddenly, Harry felt like a very lame friend.

"Don't take it like that, mate," said Ron understandingly. "Hermione knew what and was doing and why. She wanted to help and she was ready to do whatever was necessary. It was either that or watching Voldemort take over our world."

But all that Harry could think of was how many times he had almost lost both Ron and Hermione in the course of the previous year.

"I didn't really think about how much you two were putting on the line."

"Of course you did, mate. It's the family part that's hard for you to understand. It's only normal."

There was silence for a while.

"I do appreciate what you and Hermione…"

"Cut it out, Harry!" Ron burst out, throwing a handful of candy wrappers at Harry's face. "We know that. You don't have to get all soft on me."

They laughed a great deal after that.

Nevertheless, after a half-hour of joking with Ron, Harry returned to the pile of books and spent the remaining of the afternoon pondering about how he had misunderstood Hermione, how he was missing Ginny, and why he was not allowed some peace and quiet at last. On top of all, his body was showing signs of weariness bordering on exhaustion, but he could not get his brain to stop thinking long enough to fall asleep. Ron's mood went from good to bad as there was obviously no mention of _Destina Nobilis_ in any of the books that Hermione had left behind.

The high point of Harry's day was therefore Ginny's return from the other funeral. Dinner was almost ready to be served when she walked in with Percy who was carrying a large assortment of flowers and letters. Ginny instantly dropped her black cloak on the back of a chair, came forward to where Harry was standing, wrapped both her arms around Harry's neck, and kissed him gently on the lips. There were no tears in her kiss. Her eyes were bright with sunlight. There was a smell of lavender all around her.

"How did it go?" Harry said as she was sitting down besides him at the dinner table.

"Well, as you can imagine, lots of crying, lots of talking. Luna says 'hi', by the way."

Harry smiled as the image of Luna Lovegood popped into his mind.

"Was she wearing a cork necklace?"

"The so-called amulet? Yeah. She wasn't entirely back to her usual self, though," uttered Ginny with a side glance at her parents who were standing by the kitchen counter.

"What's wrong with her?" asked Harry, intrigued.

"Slughorn's been to her house," whispered Ginny with a tone that suggested once again how deeply she did not trust the Potion Master. "She's convinced that he's done something to her dad."

"I'm sure that Professor Slughorn had a perfectly good reason to visit Luna's father," snorted Percy loud enough so that anyone could hear. "Xeno Lovegood seems very keen on involving Mr Slughorn in every conspiracy theory he can think of."

"With good reasons," Ginny snapped back. "You don't know how Slughorn was at Hogwarts last year, Perce. He's a sneaky little…"

"Ginny Weasley!" said Mrs Weasley warningly. "You will keep a decent conversation at the dinner table."

Ginny leaned back into her chair with her arms crossed, and Percy went back to opening the stack of letters that he had came in with.

"What was Slughorn like last year?" whispered Harry to Ginny's ear and as discreetly as he could.

"He was asking a lot of questions, all the time. He wanted to know about Dumbledore and you. And when he realised that we wouldn't tell him anything, he tried to get into Dumbledore's Pensive."

Harry dropped his fork into his plate in surprise. The words were ringing in his ears. _Dumbledore's Pensive_. Slughorn had tried to get into it. But why? What purpose did he have? He had provided the memory about Tom Riddle and the Horcruxes. He must have guessed what Dumbledore was up to and that he, Harry, was involved. Why, then, try to get into the Pensive?

"I knew you'd find that interesting," uttered Ginny with a half-smile.

Harry would have liked to know the whole story in details, but another glare from Mrs Weasley in his and Ginny's direction persuaded him that the topic was not suitable for the dinner table.

Later on that same evening, Harry and Ginny were sitting under the starry night sky, wrapped together in a woollen blanket. Ron had gone back to his bedroom to keep watch on the souvenir box. He seemed to have understood that Harry wanted to spend some time with Ginny. It was simply a beautiful night. And it was even more enjoyable given the fact that Harry could sit in the open and not worry about Death Eaters dropping in on them. Of course, there had been the attack in the Dark Forest, but he was not going to worry about that now. At the present moment, he was sitting comfortably in the grass, Ginny's fingers were intertwined in his, and there was nothing else in the whole world. They had spoken very little since dinner, not because they had nothing to say, but because it did not seem necessary to say anything. They had not even returned to the topic of Slughorn, but Harry was forced to remember Mrs Weasley's many glares in Ginny's direction during the course of a single day. It seemed highly unusual for Mrs Weasley and her daughter to be in conflict.

"What's going on between you and your mom?" asked Harry as he was stroking Ginny's hair.

She seemed to hesitate. Harry could not see her face since she was staring into the distance. She shivered a little and Harry pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders, suddenly wishing he had not asked that question.

"They think it's just an infatuation," she said blankly.

"What? What do you mean? Who says that?"

"My parents," replied Ginny.

There was disappointment in her voice. Harry was only beginning to understand what she was talking about.

"You and me, you mean? They don't think it will last?"

He hadn't given much thought about it himself, so it seemed highly unlikely that Ginny's parents had already had this conversation with her.

"They think it's _convenient_," she added, with a tone of disgust in her voice.

Then Harry remembered what George had said. _My sister likes you because you're Ron's best friend._

"But that doesn't make any sense," said Harry, completely bewildered. "They know you better than that."

"I'm not sure they know me that well," she admitted. "If they did, they wouldn't have been talking behind my back."

"Then how did you find out?"

"Dear old Fleur told me. Can you believe that I have to rely on Phlegm for this kind of information? Anyway, they're convinced that it's just a passing thing, you and I. They don't think that it will last. They think that I'm going to ditch you as soon as I realise that we're like brother and sister."

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. Weren't parents supposed to understand their children better than anyone else? How could they be so wrong about Ginny?

"And then I'll date Neville, or Viktor Krum, or maybe Martin Clearwater. The guy invites me to his father's funeral and all of a sudden everyone thinks that there's more to it."

Her voice sounded very annoyed, but Harry suspected that it might be to hide how hurt she was.

"What about me, though?" he said, stroking her hair again, trying to be as comforting as he could. "Does anyone think I'm with you because it's convenient?"

She turned around suddenly and Harry was compelled to look into her starry eyes.

"No, _you_ are perfect," she said, half-smiling.

"No, I'm not," said Harry, trying to look away.

"Yes, you are," Ginny insisted. "And I'm the mean girl who's going to break your heart."

Everything about her tone was telling him that she was joking. But Harry could not help but think about all the facts that he was keeping from her. She did not know about the Horcruxes, about the piece of Voldemort's soul that had been inside him, about the Deathly Hallows now lying under Ron's bed, about the black mark on his chest that was now throbbing dully against his lungs. He felt less than perfect. _Ginny_ was perfect. She was everything to him. He had not been afraid to loose her before like he was afraid now.

"You're not mean," he finally managed to say. "And you're more than a sister to me."

"I know," she said, holding his face between her warm hands.

Then she kissed him passionately in such a way that Harry forgot what they had been talking about.


	8. Chapter 8

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter eight 

Harry woke up the following day feeling happier than he had been in a long, long time. When he was dressed and ready to go downstairs for breakfast, Ron offered to remain behind to keep an eye on the souvenir box. He was hunched over a long letter that he was writing to Hermione.

"No news about _Destina Nobilis_?" asked Harry as he was pushing back the box under Ron's bed after routinely checking that its content was accounted for.

"No," said Ron, "but Hermione wants to know how everyone is doing. She means _you_, of course."

Harry paused in the doorway, suddenly wondering if he should tell Ron about the mark on his chest. It was troubling him even though he was trying very hard to ignore it. Perhaps Hermione was on to something, and that was a comforting thought. It was possible that she may have seen it when Slughorn was healing Harry's arm. However, that would also mean that Slughorn and Ginny would have seen it, and Harry wasn't sure how he felt about that.

But before Harry could make up his mind to talk to Ron, Ginny had appeared at his side and slipped her hand into his.

"I'm starving," she said happily. "Let's go have some breakfast."

Obviously, there would be other opportunities to talk to Ron, so Harry was quite content to follow Ginny instead of having the gloomy conversation.

Immediately after breakfast, during which Ginny and Mrs Weasley exchanged only a few polite words, Harry felt an urge to go outside and enjoy the beautiful day. He wanted nothing but to leave all other consideration behind and spend as much time as possible with Ginny. Without a word, he took her by the hand and pulled her silently away from the kitchen while Mrs Weasley was in the living room going through a huge pile of mail. The sun was bright and warm over their heads.

"I couldn't wait to get out of there," said Ginny with a deep sigh.

"Bit tense between you and your mom?" asked Harry, concerned.

"I don't care about that. It's all the letters. I wish they would stop reading them. Everyone is crying all the time. Even _dad_ cried."

Her father's crying seemed to be a definite sign that the level of sobbing had reached a peak.

"Don't you think…? I mean, isn't it good to know how much people are thankful for what your family did?" said Harry hesitantly.

He had always been the popular one. Now it seemed only natural that the Weasleys would get some recognition for everything that they had done. It was common knowledge that they had played an essential part in the fight against Voldemort. Fred's death was at least a proof of that. Many families were sharing the same kind of grief at the moment. It was to be expected that the Wizarding World would look up to them for support.

"Some of it is genuine," replied Ginny uneasily. "Everyone is going to miss Fred, that's for sure."

"Of course," said Harry softly.

"But mostly I think it's just people fishing for information," she added in a totally different tone. "All those reporters only want to get exclusivity on the whole story. Next week, they'll be offering you money, you can be sure of that."

"Me?" said Harry, a little puzzled. "I didn't get any mail."

"_What_?"

Ginny's cheeks were now a bright shade of red and she was staring at Harry, looking very outraged.

"_What_? You didn't get your_ mail_?"

"I don't know. I mean, I didn't ask…"

"They can't keep doing that. You're not a child! They can't go through your _mail_!"

And on that thought she turned her heels and went back into the house and Harry was forced to run just to keep up with her pace.

Fortunately, when she stormed into the kitchen, there was only Ron sitting at the table. He was scooping up what looked like leftovers of shepherd's pie. The house seemed to otherwise be deserted.

"Wazzup wizz you?" said Ron with his mouth full.

"Where's everyone?"

Ginny was still fuming but at least she was making an effort to control the tone of her voice.

Ron swallowed his mouthful, glancing up at his sister.

"They've gone to the joke shop with George by Floo powder. He said he didn't want to go alone. Diagon Alley is opening up again. It's great, isn't it? What's _wrong_ with you?"

Ginny had slammed one of the kitchen cabinets with such force that a picture on the wall fell from its hook.

"_Where's Harry's mail_?"

"It's on the desk where our mail usually is!" Ron shouted, imitating her tone.

He was pointing at a small table near the window through which the mail was frequently delivered. Ginny immediately seized a stack of letters that was set apart from the rest and pushed it into Harry's hands. There must have been at least fifty letters all tied together neatly with a red ribbon.

"I'm not sure I want to read them right now," said Harry, realising with anguish how many there were and what their content must be.

"Is that what it's all about?" snapped Ron with an angry glance at his sister. He then turned back to Harry. "Mum and dad only thought you weren't ready, mate. They didn't read them. There were a few that looked suspicious, but they took care of those."

"It's still Harry's mail and he didn't even know that he had any," retorted Ginny.

"Really, I thought you knew," said Ron, perplexed. "I mean, the entire Wizarding World wants to say how thankful…"

"I get the idea," Harry cut in a little more abruptly than he had intended. "What about the suspicious letters? I want to know about those."

"Mum and dad probably took them away or destroyed them," offered Ginny.

Harry was staring at the pile of letters in his hands, feeling the weight of his fame and of what he had done. He couldn't help but wonder about how many suspicious letters there had been and how many more were likely to come. There was bond to be people who did not look at Voldemort's end as a victory but as a terrible loss. Were those people ever going to give him a moment's peace? Would he need protection for the rest of his life? What kind of life was that for Ron and Hermione? For the Weasleys? For Ginny?

He had not noticed that he was turning the stack of letters over and over on his hands.

"You can throw them in the fire if you'd like," said Ginny, pressing a warm hand on his arm. "They're your letters."

Harry wanted to push them out of his mind, but not to destroy them. He might read them some day, but not right now.

"Kreacher," he called all-of-a-sudden.

There was a faint _pop_ as the house-elf appeared in front of Harry with his head bowed low. Harry immediately presented him with the letters.

"Blimey," Ron breathed out in surprise. "I'm going to have to get used to that."

"Kreacher, I'd like you to take those to Grimmauld Place for me, please."

The house-elf reached for the red ribbon that was holding the letters together and as soon as he had touched it, both the stack of letters and the old creature disappeared at once.

Ginny was staring at Harry, her hand no longer on his arm.

"Are you moving out?" she asked. She seemed at a complete loss.

"I might," answered Harry. "I have a house that I can live in now. I just don't think I should intrude much longer. Your parents have been so nice to me and all that, but I'm still just a guest here."

"Mate," said Ron warningly, "don't tell Mum you feel like a guest here. That would really break her heart. You're like family, you know."

After that, Ginny was very quiet. Harry thought that perhaps she was pondering with the idea of him moving out of her house, but when he asked her about it she simply said that she was still mad about the letters. For a moment, Harry had the wild idea of asking Ginny to come and live with him, but he dismissed that notion rapidly. After all, Ginny was going back to Hogwarts at the end of the summer for her final year and Harry's destination was yet to be determined. Besides, they were both very young to be making that kind of plans.

By the end of the afternoon, they had spoken very few words to each other. The sky was no longer bright and blue and it looked like it was going to rain. Ron had found an old copy of _Hogwarts: a History_ and was reading it feverishly from his tiny writing desk. Ginny was sitting on the floor at the foot of Ron's bed and flipping through the pages of a Quidditch magazine that had a large picture of Viktor Krum on the cover. Harry was lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. He had made up so many different scenarios after a few hours of contemplating that he was more confused than ever. His plan to remain with the Weasleys now included adding a third floor to the house and considerably expending the kitchen. As for Grimmauld Place, he would turn it into a shelter for homeless house-elves. Another option would be to rent a flat in Diagon Alley for himself, Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and work at the joke shop as a career. Or they could live in Hogsmead and teach at Hogwarts, all four of them, until they were old and shrivelled like Professor McGonagall. Harry would teach Defense Against the Darks Arts, obviously; Ginny would be Quidditch referee; Hermione would teach Arythmancy or Transfiguration; and Ron…

"Divination!" laughed Ginny. "You'd be loads better than Trelawney."

They were all sitting at the diner table, eating salmon and baked potatoes and making wild and unlikely assumptions about their careers. Ever since Harry had wondered out loud about their future, Ron and Ginny had come up with many farfetched possibilities which Harry found thoroughly interesting. For one thing, he had never thought that there was a Bureau for the Registration and Regulation of Duels.

"Maybe you should teach Care of Magical Creatures," Ron replied back at Ginny. "Then I would tell everyone how you murdered your turtles and that would be the end of your career."

"That's not fair, Ron! I was four years-old! I didn't know hot water would kill them."

"Teaching is a very respectable profession," Percy started to say in a patronising tone. He had come home from work with his dad and had been invited to dine by an overjoyed Mrs Weasley.

"I personally expect great things from Miss Hermione Granger," Percy added importantly. "The Department of Magical Cooperation could do with someone like her. Of course she would have to start as a clerk as we all did…"

Mr Weasley nodded absent-mindedly. He seemed more interested by a black glove that George had brought back from the shop. George was wearing the other identical glove and Mr Weasley's hand was mimicking everything that George's hand was doing. Percy was interrupted when Mr Weasley's fingers started to tickle Percy's chin and gradually gained a firm grip on Percy's nose.

"Sorry, son," said Mr Weasley. "George is just doing a bit of testing."

"Not quite ready yet," said George, smiling jokingly at Percy.

"Here's a job for you, Ron. You could work at the joke shop, testing the products before they are put on the shelves," said Ginny smartly.

Ron's only reply was to throw a cherry tomato at her.

"Where do you start if you want to be an Auror, Percy?" asked Harry innocently.

It seemed a good time to talk about career opportunities.

"Well, I would recommend that you spoke to Arabella Cremoni. She's in charge of recruitment. Applicants usually have to send a letter of introduction, but that would be superfluous in your case. I'm sure that if you can get Mr Slughorn to put in a word for you, you would be selected right away."

"Harry doesn't need Slughorn's help," Ginny snapped at Percy.

Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, there was a loud whooshing noise coming from the living room. Harry was very much startled by it, but the Weasleys looked merely surprised.

"Someone at the fireplace, Mum," said Ron as he was finishing up his plate.

"You're a little jumpy, Harry," said Mr Weasley. "We were reconnected to the Floo Network yesterday. It'll be nice to live normally again, wouldn't you say?"

Mr Weasley smiled warmly and Harry realised for the first time how worn out he looked. He still had a round and joyful face, but there was grey in his hair now and wrinkles around his eyes. Harry could not help but wonder if the change had happened solely on the course of the previous year. He could not remember noticing grey in Mrs Weasley's hair before that.

"'Normal' means that various people are going to drop in frequently and usually around diner time. Mum's treacle tart has quite a reputation," whispered Ginny softly to Harry's ear.

She was smiling and squeezing his hand in hers, but her smile faded instantly the moment that she saw who it was that entered the kitchen.

"Mr Slughorn," said Percy admiringly, rising from his seat.

Ginny released Harry's hand at once and jumped to another chair across the table, right in front of Harry, too rapidly for anyone to notice. Harry had expected that she would simply get up and leave, so he was completely put off course by her unpredictable attitude. The only explanation that she gave was a quick and silent 'shush' to Harry's intention.

"Horace, how good to see you. You will of course join us for dessert, won't you?" offered Mr Weasley, shaking Slughorn's hand. "It's the least we can do after what you did for Harry."

"No, no, Arthur, Molly, I don't want to intrude. I only came to check on our young hero."

As he spoke, he pressed a hand on Harry's shoulder in a fatherly gesture and took up the empty seat besides him.

The Weasleys seemed delighted that Slughorn had decided to drop by. Percy looked like he was burning to hear the well-known professor tell one of his equally famous stories. Even Ginny, to Harry's utter surprise, seemed to be paying special attention to Slughorn's every word.

"Of course, you will stay. I absolutely insist," joined in Mrs Weasley. She had already presented Slughorn with a cup of coffee. Mr Weasley had brought a bottle of Brandy to the table.

"You're too kind, Molly. Arthur is a lucky man."

"Very lucky," said Mr Weasley, holding his wife's hand fondly.

"Of course, I might have married once, a long time ago, but life has a way of deciding these things for us."

"Were you engaged, professor?" Ginny asked, leaning forward and looking actually interested.

Mrs Weasley threw one of her mildly disapproving look in Ginny's direction.

"That's private matters, Ginny, dear."

"It's not a problem, Molly. It was so long ago. I was not engaged, not quite, but very much in love. She was a clever witch. Your mother reminded me of her, Harry, and perhaps Miss Weasley as well; smart, witty, beautiful. In those days, suitors used to go to the father to ask the daughter in marriage."

He took a long sip of coffee and Harry was sure that he was taking great pleasure in being the center of attention.

"It was another man who sought her hand before I did. Knowing that she disliked this suitor – she was in love with me, in fact – her father refused to give his blessing. The following day, the suitor in question presented a formal request of Duel to the father who accepted. It was a common way to settle matters in those days, and Helen's hand was well worth it."

Ginny rolled her eyes up and Harry saw her mutter "_honestly_" under her breath.

"What happened, Horace? Who won?" said Mrs Weasley with concern.

"No one won. Helen was killed accidentally when she tried to interpose herself between the suitor and her father."

"But it's forbidden to use the Killing Curse in a Duel," said Ron in awe.

"It was perfectly legal to use it until recently, Ronald, but only on very particular occasions," Percy stated in a tone that was reminiscent of Hermione. "But, professor, the law is very unyielding when Duels are concerned. There has to be a winner."

"Like Quidditch," uttered Ginny with a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"Yes, there had to be. Helen's father was a formidable wizard, or the Duel would not have been allowed to take place, but he could not have won against Grindelwald."

There was a general gasp of horror around the table. Ron was throwing meaningful glances at Harry. Only Ginny seemed undisturbed by this new information.

"Who killed her, then, professor?"

"Grindelwald, of course," said Ron with a disliking grin.

"No, no," replied Slughorn. Grindelwalk used Legilimency against Helen's father. He became confused and scared and shot a Killing Curse at the first person that he saw, who turned out to be his own daughter. He was never the same man after that. He ended up at St.Mungo's a year later."

Harry recalled the hours spent in Snape's dungeon, trying to block the professor out of his mind with Occlumency. He could very easily imagine Legilimency being used as a weapon, but it seemed too cruel. Voldemort had used it on many occasions. He had been able to persuade Harry that Sirius was in danger. Once inside a person's mind, it was possible to manipulate it. Harry suddenly wondered if it was grief or Grindelwald's spell that had landed Helen's father in St.Mungo's.

"It's a very sad story, Horace," said Mrs Weasley after a general silence.

"Of course, I never fell in love again. But I haven't lost my trust in Fate. If it wasn't for this tragic incident, I wouldn't have become a Potions Master, and Mr Potter might not still be with us today."

As Slughorn turned to face him, there was a moment where the corner of his lips seemed to tremble and Harry had the distinct impression that it was not as easy for the old professor to dismiss the memory of his lost love as he was making it seem.

"You seem to be doing well, Harry," said Slughorn, detaching his eyes from Harry's glance and pouring Brandy into his cup of coffee. "How is your arm?"

"Fine, thanks, professor," answered Harry politely. "It's completely healed."

"One might wonder, Harry, what you were doing on the school ground with an arrow through your shoulder."

It took Harry a moment to recover his bearings and push the story of Slughorn and Grindelwald in the back of his mind.

"It was a… misunderstanding, professor," Harry blurted out.

"It's your choice, of course, if you don't want to say anything. But, Harry, you should be careful now when you go into the Dark Forest. You are not a youngling anymore. The centaurs will not be as forgiving as they once were."

Percy gave a small cough that was very reminiscent of Dolores Umbridge.

"Pardon me, professor. This is still top secret information, but it might interest you to know that the Ministry is considering the removal of the non-human population from Hogwarts grounds," he said in a hushed voice.

He was obviously trying to impress Slughorn with his knowledge of the Ministry's agenda.

"'Non-human' meaning centaurs and house-elves, of course. I'd like to see them try. They won't come quietly. I can't believe you would agree to this, Percy."

"I don't have that kind of authority, sis. Not _yet_," he said with a wink in Ginny's direction.

"It's a delicate matter, Miss Weasley, one that has many angles to consider. But what is your opinion, Harry? As one of their victims, surely you will agree to the Ministry's decision?"

"Victims, sir?"

"Certainly you must know of the incident involving Dolores Umbridge?"

The faces of Ron, Ginny and George lit up with a broad smile.

"How is the old toad these days?" said George with unmistakable sarcasm. "Is she still rounding up blood-traitors and Mudbloods?"

"George Weasley, watch your mouth!" said Mrs Weasley warningly.

"Indeed," replied Slughorn, nodding approvingly in Mrs Weasley's direction. "However unpleasant Dolores Umbridge may have been during the last year, she was nonetheless attacked by centaurs two years ago, that much is undeniable."

"_Unpleasant_?" Ron repeated. "You never had detention with her, did you?"

"My dear boy, I'm old enough to have been her teacher, not the other way around," said Slughorn with a smile.

"How old are you, professor?" asked Harry out of the blue. He was quite content that the conversation was taking another turn. He had no wish to give his opinion on matters concerning the Ministry of Magic and its laws.

"Do I look old to you? Of course I do," Slughorn said with an even larger smile, leaning forward to reach for the bottle of Brandy once more.

Harry watched him fill up his cup with the liquor and thought that the professor just might be ready to answer any sort of questions. Ginny seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

"Surely you're not as old as Kingsley Shacklebolt?" she said, which was very flattering. Indeed, the newly appointed Minister of Magic was under forty and had recently won Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile Award, according to Mrs Weasley.

Ron gave a short snort and Slughorn laughed loudly.

"A bit older, just a bit," said the professor.

"You cannot be fifty," said Ginny, sounding falsely astonished.

Slughorn shook his head and laughed even more.

"Sixty? Seventy?"

"Close but not quite," said Slughorn cheerfully. He seemed delighted to present such a challenge.

"Surely you are not as old as Dumbledore," offered Harry as he was refilling Slughorn's cup.

He knew it to be as close as guess as could be. Dumbledore had mentioned that they had gone to school together. But whereas Dumbledore was silver-haired and thin, Slughorn was short and plump. Harry had never given it much thought, but it looked unlikely that the two men had been the same age. Yet, Dumbledore and Slughorn's closeness was a fact.

The others were staring at Slughorn, waiting for the answer. The old professor seemed to be enjoying every minute of this chase.

"My dear Harry, we are wizards," he finally uttered in a voice full of mystery and meaning. "We are not immortal, but there are ways… Well, you would know all about it, wouldn't you? How many times have you survived the Killing Curse now? Three? Three is a magical number, you know, like seven."

Slughorn allowed his voice to trail in the silence, savouring the moment. To Harry, it was obvious that he was hinting at presumed seven Horcruxes, but the Weasleys seemed unexpectedly to be very uncomfortable on their seats.

"They're just rumours, Horace," said Mr Weasley, breaking the momentary silence. "I think you know like we do that Harry is just as mortal as anybody else."

"Right, right," said Slughorn with his piercing eyes still on Harry. "Well, let's have a look at your arm then, young man, and I'll be off."

With all eyes turned to him, Harry suddenly did not feel at all like showing his arm to anybody. The wound had been on the upper arm, almost on the shoulder, so there was no way that Slughorn could examine him without removing his shirt. And if he removed his shirt, then he would also be exposing his other scars: the black mark on his chest and the burn left by the locket. He could already imagine the look of horror on Mrs Weasley's face. They would have questions, and Harry was not sure that he wanted to answer those questions yet. He was not ready. It was too soon.

"I'm alright, professor. My arm is fine. There's no need to check it, really."

"I must insist, Harry," Slughorn replied with some insistence, his cheeks becoming redder by the minute as he drank the last of the coffee and Brandy. "The side-effects I'm looking for may not be visible. If there is anything out of the ordinary, I must see it right away."

Harry's thoughts were still on the black mark. He had to decide quickly whether he wanted to show it to Slughorn or not. He tried to line up the events in his mind. Could the mark be a direct result of the arrow he had received? That didn't make sense. He was sure that he had detected the spot on his chest _before_ the funeral. It was possible, then, that Slughorn had seen the black mark when he had cured Harry's shoulder. What if he knew something about it? What if all that he really wanted was to see it again? Could he be trusted? Ginny didn't trust him. Why should he? There was also something odd about Slughorn's comment about immortality. _We are not immortal, but there are ways…_ Perhaps it was just one of those times when it's better to trust one's instinct. Besides, Harry had already decided that he would speak to Hermione about the mark. He did not need to involve Slughorn.

As soon as he thought this, Harry's mind was made up. All that he had to do now was to phrase a proper reply.

"There's nothing out of the ordinary, professor. There's no need to check my arm, really."

"That's just ridiculous!" Slughorn cried out. His whole face was bright red now. "We'll go to another room to take off your shirt, if you're that self-conscious, but I really must see it."

For a fleeting moment, Slughorn glared at him in such a way that Harry thought that the old professor was going to jump at his neck. The next second, Slughorn was standing behind Harry's chair, waiting for him to follow.

"I'm sorry, professor," said Harry a little more firmly. He was alarmed by Slughorn's persistence now. "I'm not going to show you my arm. I appreciate your help, though."

Harry was looking around at Ron for support, and he was relieved to see his friend standing an inch from Slughorn with a hand in his pocket, probably holding his wand.

"You don't understand, Harry," said Slughorn perhaps more forcefully than he had intended. "I don't know what's on your mind, but you will show me your arm."

"He said no. It's not your problem, is it?" Ron retorted.

"Not my problem? What nonsense is that! Molly, help me out, will you? Can you not talk some sense into him?"

She seemed to hesitate, and she kept glancing at Harry as though he was a complete stranger. It made him feel quite odd. Mr and Mrs Weasley had always been behind him, supporting his every decision, now they were both quiet and distant.

"He said no, that should be enough," Ginny cut in, stepping in front of her mother.

The Weasley children were now standing in semi-circle around Slughorn. George and Percy were now standing on each side of Ron and Ginny. George looked quite threatening with his black coat and dragon-skin belt. He was also a lot taller than Slughorn. As for Percy, Harry had never seen him look so severe.

"You're being reckless and arrogant, like your father," said Slughorn in a harsh voice and pointing a menacing finger at Harry who was stuck between the Potions Master and the diner table. "Severus always said that you were too much like your father. You're acting like a spoiled child. Your mother would be ashamed."

"That's not going to work," said Harry wittingly. "What's so important about my arm? Did you do anything?"

Slughorn's face became white. He could not move. Ron and Ginny were too close, and George's wand was pointing at his fat belly. Harry's questions were undoubtedly putting him off course.

"How dare you?! I'm on your side! Do you think that I would hurt you? The Boy Who Lived! The hero who destroyed the Dark Lord! Who would want anything to do with me after that?"

"Then why can't you just answer the question? What's wrong with Harry's arm?" said Ginny, loosing patience.

"Really, that's quite enough now," said Mr Weasley. "You three will let Horace leave this instant."

When Ron, Ginny and George did not move, Mr Weasley did not repeat his command. Instead, he led the appalled-looking Mrs Weasley apart from the group and into the living room. It pained Harry to have to ignore Ron's father, but he was determined to find out more about Slughorn's purpose.

"It's not my arm, is it? It's something else then?"

"You're a foolish boy!" cried Slughorn. "This is matter far beyond your capacity to understand. You're like everyone else, always a step behind. I don't know what Dumbledore saw in you."

"What are you _talking_ about?" Ron breathed out. He was obviously getting very aggravated by this situation.

As Slughorn was obviously not going to reply to Ron, Harry decided to use another tactic.

"What's _Destina Nobilis_?" he said, peering into Slughorn's eyes.

To Harry's surprise, Slughorn's expression turned from a menacing glare to a triumphant grin. Then, unexpectedly, he seized Harry by the shoulders and pushed him hard against the table.

"So Dumbledore did not tell you everything, did he? Didn't think his knight was up to it? Well, let _me_ tell you something, Potter. Only one can walk through the Gate, and I intend to be that person. You have no idea what you're up against. You should go back to your books, Potter. You're going to need it."

"_Levicorpus_!" cried Ginny.

But it was too late. Slughorn had taken out a small phial from his pocket and thrown it onto the floor at Harry's feet. The glass broke and the room became instantly bathed in complete darkness. It was so dark that Harry wondered for a split second if he had not blacked out. However, he did not need his sight to know that Slughorn was already gone.

"_Lumos Maxima_!" shouted another forceful voice.

An outburst of silver light emerged out of the darkness to reveal the face of Hermione Granger who looked more than agitated. Two people were following her with cautious steps. They looked slightly frightened.

"What is going _on_?" she cried out as the room slowly reverted to its normal lighting.

"He's gone," said George, picking up the pieces of the broken phial. "I've got to get me one of those."

"Are you alright, Harry?" said Ginny with concern.

"Him? What about _me_?"

Ron was rotating slowly above the table, pulling at his shirt, and looking at Harry from his upside down position.

"Sorry, Ron," said Ginny, giggling.

"I _hate_ that spell."


	9. Chapter 9

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter nine 

Ron fell on top of the table with a loud crack.

"What happened?" said Hermione, staring from Ron to Harry. She was in a state of near-panic.

"Slughorn tried to strangle Harry," Ron mumbled, robbing the top of his head.

"No, he didn't," replied George matter-of-factly. "He was out of his mind, though."

"What was that all about?" Ginny whispered to Harry's ear.

"Professor Slughorn was here?"

"Yeah, and he made a phenomenal exit," said George with a certain fondness in his voice. He was cradling the broken pieces of the phial in the palm of his hands and examining a grey substance on the tip of his fingers. "Amazing! Instant darkness! It's a kind of powder, like ashes, and it smells like burnt toast. I've got to find out what it is."

"Harry, someone was at my house," Hermione cut in. Her level of agitation seemed to be increasing. "And that someone was looking for _something_."

Harry stared from Hermione to the two people standing behind her. Both of them were tall and slender. Hermione's mother was shivering slightly. Her father was holding his wife gently by the shoulders and kept glancing nervously at the door.

"I put an Intruder Alert Charm on the house when we went out for breakfast this morning, just in case. The doorknob is supposed to shine blue if there's an unwanted presence inside. It was glowing when we got back. I told my parents to stay in the car, and I went in."

Ron's mouth fell opened.

"What? Are you _mental_? It was way dangerous!"

"I had the advantage of surprise, Ron," replied Hermione defensively, "and I had my wand. Anyway, I heard a noise coming from upstairs, and that's where my bedroom is. The door was just slightly opened and I saw…"

She paused and a shiver seemed to run through her body. She looked pale and tired. Ron took her hand in his and pulled her closer, trying to be as comforting as he could. Harry wasn't quite used to seeing this new level of intimacy and he looked away shyly.

"So what did you see?" He asked after a few seconds.

Ron unexpectedly threw him a reproachful glance.

"Give her a moment, will you?" he snapped.

"It's alright, Ron. It was like what you saw, Harry, in the woods. It didn't look human. It was long pieces of flesh hanging in thin air. There was only one eye. It was sort of gliding, like a Dementor, or like… like Voldemort."

Ron pulled her into a hug, but she did not sob. She rested her head on Ron's shoulder for a short moment, and then she pulled back and turned to Harry.

"I… I think it saw me. I ran down the stairs and cast a Confounding Charm over my shoulder. Whatever it was, I don't think it followed us. We drove all the way here without turning back. But, Harry, that creature, it was looking for something."

"All your stuff is here," Ron said, shrugging. "Hold on! Maybe it was looking for my letters! There could have been useful information in them."

"I've been thinking the same thing," Hermione replied, smiling at Ron proudly.

"Good thing we were so careful then," he added with a gleeful glance at Harry. "There's no chance anyone will find out anything from those letters. Hermione and I use a Concealment Charm on all our writings, plus we only share information in codes. Harry, you're my cousin Jimmy from Guildford…"

"Wouldn't it have been easier to intercept any owl leaving your house, though?" said Ginny, stepping in. "It was a customary thing last year."

Harry had almost forgotten that there were other people in the kitchen with them but Ginny's intrusion into the conversation had brought him back to that reality. However, Ron and Hermione did not seem to notice that he was glancing meaningfully at the stairway. They were listening intently to Ginny.

"I mean, a lot of owls were killed last year. The Owlery was almost emptied. If you sent a letter off, you could be sure that the reply would return with another owl. We still have Pigwidgeon because I refused to use him, Ron."

"Maybe you're right," said Hermione pensively, "but I don't see why else someone would be searching my house."

She glanced back at her parents. They were still standing in the doorway, looking hesitant. Harry didn't like to see Hermione so worried, but the Burrow was probably the safest place for her family at the moment. There were permanent protective spells on the house having to do with the fact that Harry had spent a lot of time there. Ron's home was safe and sound hiding place. But for how long?

"What did Slughorn want anyway?" Hermione asked after a few minutes of reflection.

"To check Harry's arm," Ron answered. "And he really went mental when Harry said no."

"Actually," said Harry, "I think he went madder after I mentioned _Destina Nobilis_."

Hermione's face instantly turned paler, if possible.

"Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have!"

"What are you three talking about?" Ginny let out. She looked annoyed. "What's going on?"

Harry couldn't reply to her. Slughorn's words were still ringing in his mind. _You have no idea what you're up against. You should go back to your books, Potter. You're going to need it._ Whatever information Hermione had on _Destina Nobilis_, it was definitely the first clue that they needed to investigate. And Harry wasn't sure that he wanted to involve Ginny at the moment. He needed to talk to Ron and Hermione alone and right now.

"Vampire Ashes!" George suddenly cried out in triumph.

"Amazing!" said Percy who was looking at the remains of the phial in George's hand with great interest. "I do believe you're right, George. It's really expensive and _illegal_."

"I didn't think it was possible to get any," George continued, apparently undisturbed by the illegality of the substance. "I thought that it was Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder, but there are a few distinctions. The texture and the smell are different, and the particular property of Vampire Ashes is that not only does it create momentary darkness; it also allows the person releasing it to freeze time for one entire minute. It's dark magic, to be sure. I wonder where Slughorn…"

"Freeze time?" Harry cut in, suddenly seized with panic. "You mean that Slughorn had an entire minute to run free throughout the house?"

"Yeah, that's why it's illegal. Anything to do with Time… _What are you going_?"

But Harry, Ron and Hermione were already running up the stairs. They burst into Ron's bedroom with such force that the door almost fell off its hinges.

"What the …?"

Ron froze on the spot. He seemed quite appalled by the sight of his room being upside down. The drawers were piled up on the floor, their content spread out all over the place. The posters had been ripped off from the wall. The picture frames were broken. Little balls of dust were floating down lazily as though someone had just swept the floor with a broom.

Harry had had his possessions searched before, so he was not as rooted on the spot as Ron.

"I can't believe it's still here," he said as he was pulling the souvenir box out from under the bed and removing its content delicately.

"Maybe Slughorn was looking for something else," Ron offered. He was staring down at a Chudley Cannons banner that had been cut clean in half.

"And I believe he found it," Hermione said in reply. "_Accio_ Ancient Runes textbook, advanced level," she enunciated, waving her wand.

Nothing stirred in the room, but there were distinctive footsteps coming towards them from the hallway. Harry knew that it must be Ginny, so it pained him to have to shut the door. However, it was imperative to find another hiding place for the Stone and the Wand before anyone else tried to get their hands on them, and there wasn't time to include Ginny in the plan.

"_Muffliato_," he said, flicking his wand impatiently.

"Someone did this on purpose," Ron was muttering to himself as he was picking up the pieces of his posters. "No respect at all…"

"It was probably to give us the wrong impression," Hermione offered compassionately.

"What about your textbook, Hermione?" Harry asked rather pressingly. "Should we care? What about the…?"

"_Yes_, you should care, Harry, if you want to know more about that mark on your chest."

Harry felt quite abashed. If Hermione knew, it meant that Slughorn also knew.

Ginny was knocking on the door quite persistently. Harry felt that he would give anything to be able to escape this new doom that had suddenly come upon him. For a fleeting moment, he thought about opening the door to Ginny and letting her in on everything that had happened.

"What mark?" Ron asked, stepping over a heap of clothes to join Harry who was sitting on the floor and staring at the doorway.

Now was probably not a good time to engage in a long retelling of last year's events with Ginny.

Harry turned to Ron and undid a few buttons of his shirt, revealing the black spot on his chest. The look on his friend's face was not as surprised as he had thought, but he was nevertheless gaping.

Ron dropped to the floor besides Harry; all thoughts of the ripped posters seemed forgotten. Ginny's knocking was still echoing in the room, which was adding to Harry's discomfort.

"That can't be good, mate. You should have said something."

"He's right, you know," said Hermione, sitting on the floor as well with her legs crossed. "You can't just ignore it, Harry."

Ginny's loud knocking on the door stopped abruptly. She shouted a thunderous and angry "fine!" and was heard walking away with booming steps.

"Let's hide these things first, OK?" Harry said impatiently. "Tell me you have somewhere in mind, Hermione, please."

"Well, I think we may have been looking at it the wrong way," Hermione began to say as she was following Harry's glance at the door. "Maybe we shouldn't look for a place for each of the items, but for a person."

"You mean like a Secret Keeper?"

"That's brilliant!" said Ron with a sigh of relief. "How do we do that?"

"I'm not sure…"

"I knew you wouldn't be, Harry," Hermione uttered with a caring hand on his shoulder. "Are you thinking about your parents?"

"I just wouldn't want either of you to be tortured for information. Once was enough," Harry admitted, staring at her face.

He could still remember Hermione's screams as she had been put under the Cruciatus Curse, and from what he was seeing on Ron's face, his friend had not forgotten either.

"That's why I started to look for any other reference I could find to the Deathly Hallows and to Tale of the Three Brothers. I thought that maybe there would be a clue, and there was."

"In your Ancient Runes textbook," Harry concluded for her.

"I knew I should have kept it with me. How could I be so stupid?"

"We don't blame you, 'Mione," Ron said, patting her back.

"There is an older version of the Tale of the Three Brothers in that book, but it's the Advanced Level and it's just taking very long to translate it. I thought you two would help."

Ron glanced at Harry nervously.

"Well, we tried, but you know, it was in _Runes_."

"Anyway," Hermione continued, ignoring Ron's comment, "like in many myth and legends, important details can get lost in translation. In Ancient Runes, for instance, the literal meaning of the word 'dying' becomes 'He knew the things that were and the things that would be and the things that had been before'. And most importantly, Death is often personified, like in the Tale of the Three Brothers."

There was finality in her explanation as though she had just given them an answer.

"Death is a person?" Ron repeated, incredulous. "You want us to find... _Death_."

"Give back the Deathly Hallows to the original maker," said Harry catching on. "How do we do _that_?"

Suddenly, the idea of a Secret Keeper did not seem so bad.

"I don't know, Harry."

"What's _Destina Nobilis_, then?"

"It's the title, Harry. The Tale of the Three Brothers, in Ancient Runes, reads '_Destina Nobilis_', with an annotation under it that says 'The fates have given mankind a patient soul'."

"You know what we have to do, then?" Ron asked out of the blue.

Harry's mind was quite blank. Hermione shrugged.

"We have to talk to the only person alive who knows that much about the Deathly Hallows."

At least, the situation was not hopeless, which was enough to make Harry smile. It wasn't much, but it was a plan.

Hermione seemed to be thinking along the same line. She was smiling at Ron with increasing fondness. When they spoke, it was all three at once.

"Xeno Lovegood."


	10. Chapter 10

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter ten 

It seemed clear now that they would have no rest for as long as they were in possession of the Deathly Hallows. Slughorn intrusion in Ron's room and the nature of the book that he had stolen only meant that there was more to the Tale of the Three Brothers than what Harry, Ron and Hermione had originally deducted. This left Harry wondering once more about how much he could have learnt from Dumbledore while he was still alive.

"I told Dumbledore that I wouldn't use it and he seemed to agree," said Harry as he was stuffing the Elder Wand in the left pocket of his jeans. The wand seemed to shrink in length until it was a perfect fit.

"Dumbledore's _portrait_ told you that, Harry. Portraits are just a pale copy of what a person was. You shouldn't take it too much for granted. Besides, I'm not saying that you should use the Wand, just that you should keep it with you. As it is, I don't think you have much of a choice."

They were still sitting on the floor of Ron's room and Hermione was dividing the Stone, the Wand and the Cloak between them for safekeeping. She seemed convinced that, at the present time, the three objects were safer with them than hidden in Ron's souvenir box.

"It's a temporary solution," Hermione added as she was passing the Invisibility Cloak onto Ron while Harry stared at it with a mixture of regret and longing. Being separated from the Cloak was like having to lend a piece of himself.

"I've always had the Cloak…" he started to say.

"I know, but you're the master of the Wand, and we agreed that the three objects ought to be split up in case they hold some special power when united. You can't have the Wand _and_ the Cloak, Harry. It makes more sense like this. There are three of us, and three objects."

Hermione had distributed the Deathly Hallows with considerable thought therefore Harry was having lot of difficulty persuading her that he would prefer to be the keeper of the Stone or the Cloak. Hermione would not budge as far as the Elder Wand was concerned.

"The wand chooses the wizard, you know."

"I don't trust it, Hermione, that's all," he said a little crossly. The memory of how it had acted in the Dark Forest was quite vivid in his mind.

"You ought to trust _yourself_, Harry, not the wand. You're a great wizard. You really are."

"We're not eleven years-old anymore, Hermione. If I can't control the Wand, people could _die_."

"Cut it out, you two!" said Ron impatiently. He was staring at the Cloak folded on his lap with great mistrust. "They're called 'Deathly Hallows', not Fluffy Bunnies. Can we just concentrate on getting rid of them? That would make me feel loads better."

"Fluffy Bunnies!" Hermione laughed. "Ron, you're so cute."

Ron's face became considerably pink and he stuffed the Cloak inside his orange Chudley Cannons rucksack without looking at any of them.

The third object was of course the Stone of which Hermione was now the keeper. She had made it clear that the resurrecting power of the Stone could not end up in the hands of someone who had recently lost a loved one. The only thought of George on the night of the funeral had been enough to convince both Harry and Ron on that particular point. She had therefore concealed the small token inside a heart-shaped golden locket that her parents had given her on her first year going to Hogwarts. Besides the Resurrection Stone, the locket also held a picture of her mother and father.

"That's a really nice necklace," said Ron as Hermione was fixing the gold chain around her neck. "Why didn't you wear it before?"

"Ron, it's a _heart_."

"Hearts are not cool?"

"Hearts are not _me_, actually."

Harry saw a slightly crestfallen look on Ron's face, but it quickly disappeared. Hermione did not seem to notice it.

As they were going down the stairs, Ron allowed Hermione to go first so that he could talk to Harry without her hearing what they were whispering about.

"I want to give her something nice, you know, like a present. I told George not to give her a Weasley brooch because I had something better in mind. I was thinking of jewellery, something meaningful. Now I've run out of ideas."

"I think she would have liked a Weasley brooch," Harry offered tentatively.

They were interrupted by Mrs Weasley's most reproachful glare as they reached the bottom of the stairs. For a split second, Harry thought that she was going to send them back upstairs or give them a severe lecture. The presence of Mrs and Mr Granger in their kitchen was probably the only reason why they were spared.

"There you are, boys," said Mr Weasley merely, pressing a caring hand on his wife's shoulder, which seemed to considerably calm her down. "You should have told us that we had guests."

"I'll make some tea. Mum, would you like some tea?" Hermione said nervously. She was rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. With one wave of her wand, the entire tea set flew towards the table on which it landed gracefully.

"Nicely done," Hermione's mother commented. "You are so talented, dearest!"

On that statement, Mrs Weasley finally detached her stare from Harry and Ron and turned to face her guests.

"Indeed she's very talented. The brightest witch of her age," she said to Mrs Granger.

The minute later, the two women were chatting happily and Hermione's cheeks had turned a bright shade of pink as she busied at the kitchen counter making tea. In the meantime, Mr Weasley had asked for a private word with Ron and they had both disappeared into the living room, leaving Harry alone with Mr Granger. George, Percy and Ginny were nowhere to be seen.

"What a fascinating device," said Hermione's dad, eyeing the Weasley family clock with increasing curiosity.

Perhaps he was finding it odd that there was a hand with his daughter's name on it. Harry stepped in closer so that he could provide the needed explanation, but he was surprised to see how much changes had been made to the clock. The hands of the clock were still indicating the location of each family member, with the addition of Harry and Hermione, but there were a few new ones as well. A hand had been added for Fleur and a new location had appeared: Shell Cottage. There was also a tiny hand with a sleeping baby face on it and which read 'Teddy Lupin'. It was pointing at 'Mrs Tonks Residence'. The hand showing Fred's face could no longer be found. And, to Harry's outmost surprise, there were three hands pointing to 'mortal peril'.

"I think I understand how this works," said Mr Granger who was closely observing the clock. "But I don't like it. What's this 'mortal peril' business? Why is my Hermione pointing towards 'mortal peril'?"

Harry was speechless and he could not reply to Mr Granger. The three hands pointing towards 'mortal peril' belonged to Ron, Hermione and himself. Could it be because they were now carrying the Deathly Hallows with them? The only other time it had pointed to 'mortal peril' had been when Voldemort had returned to power, and then it had been all the hands on the clock, not just three. Dread seemed to settle inside Harry's chest. Was being in possession of the Deathly Hallows as dangerous as being threatened by Voldemort? Was _he_ putting the lives of Ron and Hermione in jeopardy once again? Why did this keep happening to him?

"Harry?" said Hermione in a strangled voice.

She had stopped pouring tea and was now staring at him inquiringly. He could see clearly the anguish on her face.

"We're pointing at 'mortal peril'," Harry answered, staring back at her.

Hermione seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then she resumed her pouring of the tea, smiling reassuringly at her mother as she did.

"It's old news. It's nothing to worry about," she said unconvincingly. Harry could see her hands shaking. She was fighting hard to steady her nerves. Mrs Granger did not seem certain that her daughter was telling the truth.

"No, Hermione," Harry said decidedly, "we have to act. Now. Tonight."

"Harry, it's very late. You're not thinking this through. We can't rush into this. There are already enough suspicions and rumours as it is. We could be running into a trap. It's happened before, if you remember."

"Rush into _what_? What's going on?" Hermione's father asked imperatively, staring from his daughter to Harry. "Why are you in peril? I want an explanation."

"Harry, dear, come and have a cup of tea and we can talk about this," Mrs Weasley added tentatively. "I think it's time you talk to us."

But Harry's mind was submerged with feeling of anxiety and guilt. He could not bare the idea of sitting down and start a long explanation about why they were in danger. There could be another attack at any moment by Slughorn or the other half-human creature that had been to Hermione's house. What if another Weasley got injured or worst because of him? He could not help but glance at the clock. Which one would it be next? George? Ron? Ginny?

His heart sank lower. _No, I can't loose Ginny. _

Hermione seemed to be reading his thoughts.

"We have to let them in on what's going on," she said resolutely to Harry. Her hand had reached out to her mother's. "It's not a secret mission anymore. The Order can help us. I… I think we need help, Harry."

Harry was quite shocked. Hermione had always agreed on the need for secrecy. He could not understand her sudden change of heart.

"You didn't say we needed help last year," he said accusingly.

"We _couldn't_ get help last year, Harry. It's not the same."

Mr Granger was now eyeing Harry as though he was seeing him for the first time. When he spoke his voice was quite forceful.

"Young man, if you have information on why my daughter is in danger, we're entitled to know about it, so I suggest you sit down and start talking."

"Dad!" said Hermione, outraged. "Harry has every right to…"

"I don't care if it's Harry Potter or the Queen herself, I demand to know what's going on."

Harry's chest tightened as though someone was pressing hard on his rib cage. He had stood up to the Minister of Magic more than once, he had talked back to men much older and influential, yet he felt himself shrink before Hermione's father. Ron's parents, until recently, had always been supportive because they knew what was at stakes as far as Harry's mission was concerned. But Hermione's parents only knew one fact: they could loose their only daughter forever because of him.

Harry was about to open his mouth although he had no idea what he should say when he was cut off by Ron's panicked screams.

"MUM! IT'S DAD! QUICK!"

Mrs Weasley rose at once and ran pass Harry so fast that he was almost knocked off his feet. Mr Granger was second to follow.

"Oh, no! Oh, no!" Hermione kept saying under her breath as she grabbed hold of Harry's wrist and pulled him along behind her. "Oh, please, no!"

In the dimly lit living room, Mr Weasley was lying in an abnormal position on the sofa with his head laid back and his eyes out of focus. Ron was standing a few steps in front of him, looking appalled. Mrs Weasley ran to her husband and let out a high-pitched yell that reminded Harry of the sound McGonagall had made when she had thought him dead.

"Arthur! Talk to me! ARTHUR!"

The only person who was not rooted on the spot was Hermione's dad. He was rapidly at Mr Weasley's side, taking his wrist, checking his watch, lifting Mr Weasley's eyelids. He clearly looked as though he knew what he was doing.

"I have some medical expertise," he quickly informed them. "I believe I have a steady pulse which is a good sign. Give him some air, please."

Mrs Weasley instantly waved her wand and the windows burst opened. A cool gush of wind rushed into the living room and seemed to revive the flame in the old fireplace.

"Ronald, bring me some rum or brandy or anything of the sort. Hermione, we need some coffee. Make it strong. Go."

Hermione stirred Ron towards the kitchen and they walked out of sight, hand in hand. They strode pass Mrs Granger who was joining them last into the living room with a medium-sized red bag in her hands.

"Emergency kit, dear," she said, unzipping the bag as she kneeled besides her husband.

She pulled out a small white bottle of transparent liquid. Mr Granger opened it at once and passed it under Mr Weasley's nose. To Harry's great relief, he saw Ron's dad stir and open his eyes.

"Arthur!" cried out Mrs Weasley with unmistakable gladness.

"Merlin's beard!" Mr Weasley mumbled with some difficulty. "Where… Where are my glasses?"

Mrs Weasley looked despairingly at Hermione's dad for a diagnostic as she bent down to retrieve the glasses. Harry thought fleetingly that he had never seen Mr Weasley so sickly-looking, even when he was in St.Mungo's after being bitten by Voldemort's snake. He was pale as death. He wasn't sure that Mr Granger's expertise would be enough to reassure him. Hermione's dad was a dentist, not a physician.

"This might turn out to be just a bad occurrence," Mr Granger said in a comforting tone. "It looks like your husband experienced low blood pressure. I've seen it before with patients who are either really scared, or really old. No offense."

Mr Weasley was smiling weakly at Mr Granger's remark when Ron walked in with a bottle of brandy and still holding Hermione's hand. Both of them froze on the spot when they saw that Ron's dad was conscious.

"Brandy, that's perfect, dear," said Hermione's mother, taking the bottle from Ron's trembling hand.

"How are you feeling, Arthur?" said Mrs Weasley. Her eyes were bright with tears.

"Fine, Molly. Don't you worry; just a bit of brandy will do the trick."

He pulled himself up but his face turned momentarily greenish and he laid his head back again.

"Should I get some chocolate?" Hermione asked in a shaking voice.

"Chocolate only works for magical injuries," said Ron mechanically. "Shouldn't we take him to St.Mungo's?" Ron added, turning inquiringly to his mother.

"It's only low blood pressure, Ron. I'll be alright. Muggle medicine seems to be working miracles," replied Mr Weasley as Hermione's dad was checking his pulse again. "Brandy! I always said that Muggles aren't that different from us."

"It's just a stimulant," Mr Granger clarified still in a professional manner. "But you know I'm just a dentist. I would recommend you see a specialist. Surely there are wizard doctors?"

"They're called Healers, dad," said Hermione appreciatively.

Mr Weasley nodded and took a sip of his drink. The brandy brought some color back to his cheeks. After another sip, he was able to sit up in a comfortable position. The smell of brewing coffee was starting to fill up the room and the fire was now blazing.

"Ron, you were here. What happened?" Mrs Weasley asked after a few minutes during which her husband seemed to recover most of his strength.

"It's nothing, Molly. We were just talking."

Harry saw Hermione squeeze Ron's hand caringly, as though encouraging him to speak up.

"We were arguing, actually," Ron said after taking a deep breath. His mother was looking at him with a critical expression. "We were arguing… forcefully. I don't know what got into me. Dad wanted to know what Harry, Hermione and I are up to. I said that we aren't ready to talk about it. Dad said… He said that he would not tolerate secrets in the house any longer. He said that mum's nerves couldn't take it anymore. He wanted to know what is going on. I couldn't… I didn't want to say anything. And then he fell. His eyes turned backwards and he fell into my arms. I called for help, and then I levitated him to the couch."

Hermione was stroking Ron's back as he spoke.

"It's not your fault, Ron. I've been straining myself too much," said Mr Weasley with a caring expression on his face.

"It's happened before, then?" Mr Granger inquired as he was gathering up the emergency kit.

"Once or twice last year," Mr Weasley uttered apprehensively, avoiding eye contact with his wife.

"Three times!" corrected Mrs Weasley. "Too much stress. Madam Pomfrey told you to take it easy. Arthur, dear, you haven't been taking care of yourself. You should have taken some time off."

From the way Ron was staring at his father, Harry could only guess that this information was new to him.

"Time off! It was war, Molly. Everyday, we were loosing a little of what we fought all our lives to protect. And there were days when we lost… so much."

"I know, dear," Mrs Weasley whispered to her husband's ears, tears pouring down her face. "I was just hoping that you would take time off now, but it just never ends, does it?"

Mr Weasley was kissing his wife's hair. Hermione's parents were holding each other in a close embrace. Ron and Hermione were standing hand in hand. She had tears leaking from her eyes. But even though she was crying, she was able to conjure a wonderfully bright Patronus which she set out with the message: "You're needed at home." When Mrs Weasley threw her an inquiring look, she replied weakly: "George, Percy and Ginny went out to Lee Jordan's Café."

"How do you know?" Ron asked her, raising one eyebrow.

"George lives in the flat just above it. It's the only place that's still opened in Diagon Alley at this hour. Lee makes a good cappuccino."

"I don't like cappuccino," Ron replied without much thought.

There was a general giggle, followed by sighs of relief and Mrs Weasley's offering of a warm cup of coffee. Hermione was kissing Ron so passionately that Harry had to look away.

And then it hit him. It was a wave of cold like he had never felt before. He tried to think of Ginny, of her warmth, of her bright eyes, but the cold and the dread he was feeling were overwhelming. It was as though someone had opened a door inside his head and let out all of his dark thoughts. His mind was filling up with the memories of those that he had lost: his parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Lupin, Tonks, Fred. He could hear their voices pleading, screaming in pain, tormenting him with accusations. He could even see their faces all round him, death-like, colourless, and lifeless. The empty eyes were worst than the shrieking. They were murmuring inside his mind. Did they die for him, or because of him? Who would be next? How could he protect them? He had failed to safe the lives of so many. Would the ones he loved ever be safe? What if he left? What if he was gone forever? Who would miss him really?

And then, he was no longer in the living room. His senses seemed to be coming back but it took him a several seconds to recover his bearings. It had happened unexpectedly and without the pulling sensation that he had come to associate with Apparition. A minute ago, he had been assailed by a horrible dream-like experience, wanting nothing less than to vanish from existence, and now he was standing in the middle of Ron's chaotic bedroom. It was the Elder Wand, of course. He had wanted to escape, and the Wand had responded to his wish. The only fact that he could not explain was why he had ended up in Ron's bedroom, and not into oblivion as his thoughts should have led him.

He sighed with relief as the last of the vision seemed to be leaving him, but as he thought this, it started again with renewed intensity. He didn't have time to brace himself. It was like being hit by dozens of Legilimency curses all at once. He tried to shake it off, tried to close his mind, even tried to call for help, but his body was numb with cold. It was as though someone was pouring icy water on his chest, freezing his insides. It wasn't natural. Something was doing this to him. It was dark magic. There was nothing he could do. He was powerless against it.

And out of nowhere came a voice. It was his own voice, yelling indiscernibly and panting as though he had been running. He could hear his own breathing and his own footsteps. And with each step, he felt as though he was going towards the worst thing that could ever happen. It was worst than facing Voldemort, worst than pain or death. He was so afraid of what he was going to find. There was nothing worst in the whole world.

"Harry! _Harry_!"

Someone was touching his arm. It sent a wave through his body like electricity. It was so dark and so cold. His lungs were like ice. It was hurting to breathe. He had to breathe, he just had to.

"Get him up! We've gotta go!"

Someone slapped him on the face and his eyes snapped opened.

"Harry, get a grip! I know it's hard, but you have to stay put."

Ron was pulling him up to his feet. Someone else was there as well. Harry tried to get his eyes to focus. Everything around him was black, but the person next to him smelled like cappuccino and burnt toast. _George_. Why were Ron and George supporting him? What had just happened? A second ago, he had been standing in Ron's room, now his body was trembling all over and he couldn't get up. He had to concentrate on his breathing. Why was it so hard to breathe?

"Harry, Dementors! They're on top of the house. Loads of them! Try to stay awake, mate. We'll need your Patronus to get out of here."

They almost fell on the stairs. Harry's feet were like lead.

"I'm going to Levitate him," said George, grunting.

"No, we need him to move so that he stays conscious. You hear that, mate? Stay conscious."

It was utterly dark around them as though all the light in the world had been turned off. Harry's feeling of dread came back to him like a wave.

"Where's Ginny?" he managed to ask between two rough breaths.

"She's here. We were looking for you, mate. Where have you _been_?"

"I wasn't gone… I was… Ron, I can't see anything."

"Me neither. It's the Deluminator," Ron explained. "I'm not sure how long it's going to work against Dementors, though. We have to get out of here."

Harry could feel the kitchen floor under his feet now. The air around him was cold and all he could see was moving shadows, but at least he could stand on his own and possibly walk.

"Harry!"

He knew that smell. _Ginny_. He saw her like a silvery star in the darkness.

"Keep that Patronus bright, sis," George said alarmingly. "We're going out."

"Harry, hold on," Ginny's voice uttered.

From the movement all around him and the hushed terrified voices, Harry gathered that the Weasleys, Hermione and her parents must all be standing a step away from him. He could make out their faces, pallid, weary and fearful.

"What's wrong with him?" Mr Granger asked breathlessly, pressing a hand on Harry's forehead as though he was a child with fever. "That's weird. You're very cold."

"It's the Dementors," said Ron impatiently. "We've got to get out of here."

Harry could feel Ginny close to him. Her nearness seemed to give him back his strength and warmth better than chocolate, but he still couldn't see very well and his breathing was shallow. He wasn't sure that his impaired vision had anything to do with Ron's Deluminator, but he didn't want to worry about that now. He could see enough to make his escape.

"Everyone accounted for?" Percy called out.

There was a general shudder as the house trembled. Mrs Weasley managed to say "we're all here" while everyone else was looking at the ceiling as though it was about to fall on top of their heads.

"It feels worst then before," said Ron who was still holding on tightly to Harry's arm. "Doesn't it feel worst than before?"

Harry thought that he heard Hermione reply a feeble "yeah", but she was cut off by Percy's most authoritarian voice.

"We run into the orchard. The trees will give us some cover. We'll Disapparate all together once we're clear of the Anti-Apparition Spell that's on the house and backyard. Patronuses are our only protection, so concentrate on making them the very best you've ever made."

"And stay together," George added on top of Percy's instructions. "Dementors won't attack a group of people. We're more interesting preys when we're alone and vulnerable."

"I feel vulnerable enough," said Ron sarcastically.

But the tenseness in his voice had not escaped Hermione. She stepped closer to him and said "We can do this" in her most uncompromising tone.

"It's too far," Mrs Weasley pleaded in a shaking voice. "Your father can't run. We'll just have to risk using the fireplace."

"If the Ministry has sent Dementors to your house, there's a good chance that they're watching the Floo Network," said Hermione pressingly. "We don't know what's happening."

"That's sounds like a very hasty conclusion for you, Hermione. We don't know yet that the Ministry is behind it," commented Mr Weasley.

"I have to agree with Hermione," said Percy gravely. "Once word of this gets out…"

"Let's get ourselves out first," George cut in. "Our Patronuses will protect us all, mum. Don't worry about dad. We've got him covered, Percy and me," he added with conviction.

He waved his wand and said "_Expecto Patronum_!" out loud, but Harry thought that the result was rather sparse.

"George, there must be a hundred Dementors out there, and you've just been through so much…"

"We're Dumbledore's Army," Ginny pointed out, waving her wand so that a splash of silver erupted in front of Harry's eyes. "Patronuses are our specialty. Remember last year, George? 'The small rock holds back a great wave'."

Her comment, which Harry didn't understand, seemed to lift everyone's spirit. He saw more silvery sparks around him and heard the voices of his friends chant "_Expecto Patronum_" in unison.

"Everyone ready?" George cried out. He was surrounded by the glow of his Patronus which was now shining with increasing intensity. Harry thought that this must be a new form, but he couldn't make it out.

"Wait!" said Hermione all of a sudden. "Harry, can you keep up? We already have our hands full with Mr Weasley and my parents. They can't do magic to protect themselves…"

"I'm alright, Hermione," Harry replied, straightening up and rubbing his eyes. He took Ginny's hand firmly in his and freed himself from Ron's grip by shaking his shoulders. On his right hand, he was holding the Elder Wand aloft. His body was still a bit stiff with cold, but he knew that he could make it with Ginny at his side. "It's now or never. Let's do it."

They burst out into the garden through the back door of the house in a flash of silvery light that pierced the darkness like lightening. George and Percy took the lead, while Mrs Weasley and her husband followed closely. Mr and Mrs Granger were immediately behind and protected on each side by Ron and Hermione. Harry and Ginny were at the rear.

Their exit seemed to drag the Dementors to them like magnets. They were descending on the group with great speed and the orchard was much further than Harry remembered it.

"Harry, what are waiting for? Cast your Patronus!" Ginny shouted, pulling him onwards.

Harry immediately thought of his favourite memory and Ron and Hermione's smiling faces popped into his mind. Instantly, the Wand reacted by setting the sky ablaze with a blinding light. It was so strikingly and unexpectedly bright that Harry had the reflex to cover his eyes. Apparently, he wasn't the only one to do so because he immediately bumped into Ginny who had collided with Hermione's parents.

"What on earth was that?" Percy yelled.

Harry fell on his knees. The spell seemed to have taken the last bit of his strength and the Patronus, or whatever it was, died instantly. He felt a gush of cold on his whole body again. His breathing was coming out in a mist. A reverberating sound in his head was growing louder. It was the same panting, the same footsteps, and the same feeling of dread. His own voice was pleading. _No, not him. Please, I'll do anything. Not him!_ There was nothing worst in the whole world. It was worst than pain or death…

"_Expecto Patronum_!" cried Ginny's voice.

Harry's eyes opened at the sound and through a haze he saw an enormous and beautiful bird cross the sky and place itself between him and about a hundred Dementors.

"Nice one, sis," said George cheerfully, though his voice was strained. "Come on, let's go!"

"No, wait. Get together. Hold on to each other."

He had spoken with a voice that wasn't quite his own. It was as though the Wand was telling him what to do.

"Harry, the Anti-Apparition Spell…" Hermione began to say.

"Just do as I say. Trust me."

The others did not argue. The Dementors were pushing restlessly on Ginny's Patronus, determined to reach their target. The bright bird was beginning to fade. Harry could see Ginny's hands shaking. She glanced back at him, but her eyes were not imploring or defeated; they were uncommonly bright. Her expression was stubborn, unyielding. At once, Harry knew what he had to do.

"Now, Hermione!" he shouted.

Hermione took hold of his wrist and through her he felt the presence of all the rest. In a last effort, he launched himself at Ginny, grabbing her ankles with his left arm. As soon as he had touched her, he felt a wave of cold again, but he was ready for it this time. The world around him dissolved into a mist and the last thing that he saw was the outline of the Burrow under a black pool of Dementors.


	11. Chapter 11

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter eleven 

"He knew the things that were and the things that would be and the things that had been before," said an echoing voice.

His chest was like ice. He was filled with dread. Shadows were passing in front of his eyes like silent spectres: Cedric's inanimate expression, Dumbledore sprawled on the grass, Sirius' empty eyes, his body falling through the veil, falling into nothingness…

"Only one can walk through the Gate," a man laughed. "Dumbledore's knight! We will see."

And then the mist lifted from his eyes and he found himself with his nose pressed against a polished dark wooden floor.

"Where are we?"

"What happened?"

"Harry?" said Ginny, bending low so that he could smell her hair.

"Is everyone okay? Is everyone accounted for?" he asked, rising suddenly. "Oh, sorry!"

He had bumped into Ginny's head and she was now rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand.

"We're all here. Thank you, dear," answered Mrs Weasley.

"But the question is, where is _here_?" said George.

As he struggled to his feet, helped by Ginny, Harry had to confess that he was a little confused himself. He had expected to fall on a thick layer of dust, but instead the whole room was quite spotless.

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione burst out. "I love what you've done with the place!"

They were all standing in the middle of the kitchen in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. However, it was hardly recognisable. At first glance, Harry could have sworn that it was the wrong house. The furniture was no longer old and shabby. The walls looked like they had been freshly painted. There were thick burgundy drapes on the windows and shining white and gold tableware in the glass cabinets. A gleaming chandelier was hanging over the dining table and casting a warm glow on the dimly lit room.

"Grimmauld Place! I hardly recognised it. How wonderful! I was never able to get it this clean," said Mrs Weasley, seemingly delighted.

"Welcome to Headquarters, Perce!" said George joyfully, clapping his brother on the back. "First time here, I believe."

"Sirius Black's house?" Percy inquired incredulously. "I thought you said it wasn't a safe hideout anymore."

"It's Harry's house, actually," said Hermione who was looking around appreciatively.

"It wasn't safe to come here last year, son," said Mr Weasley. "But I reckon it is quite alright now. Harry obviously thinks it's safe. What do you say, Harry?"

They all turned to stare at him. The level of anxiety seemed to have significantly decreased since their arrival at Grimmauld Place, but the signs of strain and tiredness were clearly visible on all of the Weasleys, especially Ron's dad who was now leaning against the back of a chair but still smiling in Harry's direction. Hermione's parents looked pale and sickly like Dudley had after his first encounter with Dementors. Ginny was the only one who seemed almost unaffected by the attack.

"Listen, I'm really sorry about it all…"

"Nonsense, Harry," replied Ron's dad before Harry could finish his sentence. "I believe we owe you our very narrow escape."

"Dementors, at our house!" shrieked Mrs Weasley, collapsing on one of the many chairs around the dining table with a deep sigh.

"Hermione told us about those creatures," Mrs Granger started to say, "but she never said it would be this bad… Argh! What is _that_?"

Hermione's mother had almost trodden on Kreacher the House-Elf who had been, Harry realised, conveniently arranging the chairs for them to sit down. He thought he heard the elf mutter '_worthless_ _filth_' under his breath, but he did not make mention of it as Hermione was already fussing around Kreacher.

"It's Kreacher, mum, and he has _feelings_, you know. No, I'll do that, Kreacher," she said, taking a chair from his hands with force, which caused Kreacher to bow low with an unmistakable sneer and disappear in a shadowy corner of the room.

Harry could not help but stare at them all. The memory of the accusing spectres and dream-like voices was resurfacing. And what had happened to his Patronus? Was the Elder Wand the cause of everything strange happening to him? He couldn't let the Weasleys suffer because of it. They had all been through so much for him already. He mentally swore that the attack by Dementors was the last attempt on the Weasleys' lives that he would allow to happen. He had to take action. But first, they needed rest. _He_ needed rest. He felt so cold, so guilty, and so ashamed. He couldn't bear to make eye contact with Mr and Mrs Weasley, so he pretended to be looking at the polished furniture and tableware.

"Did you do all that, Kreacher?" said Hermione in wonder. "You've done a wonderful job!"

"I have to admit…" Ron echoed. "I reckon living here wouldn't be so bad anymore."

"Well, why don't you move in with Harry?" Ginny snapped at Ron.

Harry turned around to face her, but she avoided his gaze and went to the table to sit between George and Percy instead.

"Harry, look at the clock!" said Hermione, probably to put an end to the awkward moment. "It's so beautiful now. We could never get it this clean, remember? Oh! Is it really this late?"

Ron came to stand behind her and started to caress her hair absent-mindedly while staring at the clock.

"This clock is wrong," he said, raising an eyebrow. "It was a quarter to midnight when I checked in the living room after dad was sick. Now it's four in the morning. That can't be right."

"Master's clock is never wrong," hissed Kreacher's low voice from the back of the room.

"It was five past midnight when we started to look for Harry," said Hermione.

Harry stepped closer to the clock as well.

"Well, you didn't have to look very far, did you?" he said thoughtfully. "I was in Ron's bedroom."

"No, you weren't," Ron replied rapidly. "You were only there the third time we checked. We thought you'd left, mate. And by the way, you really have to stop doing that."

"We should fix this clock," said Hermione a little anxiously. Then she stared at her watch and said: "My watch shows four in the morning too. Anyone else has four o'clock on their watch?"

There was a general upraising of voices saying 'I do' one after the other, which resulted in Hermione's face changing into a puzzled expression. However, it was Kreacher who spoke first.

"Master's clock is never wrong. Master shouldn't do Dark Magic if he doesn't want time to slip away."

Hermione's hands clasped over her mouth.

"Harry, I think he might be right," she let out in a breath. "That spell you did, it didn't feel like Apparition. I didn't feel right either. And it broke through the Anti-Apparition jinx on Ron's house. What did you do?"

Harry glanced back at the dining table and saw that the others were listening intently. The Elder Wand was in his pocket, but he couldn't tell them. He wanted to protect them. There had already been too many attacks.

"Let's not talk about this now, okay?" he said edgily.

He turned towards the dark corner of the room where he knew that the house-elf was hidden.

"Kreacher, we need chocolate, enough for everyone here."

There was the sound of a faint 'pop' and the elf reappeared a moment later with a gleaming silver tray full of dark truffles and ten cups of hot chocolate which were all taken but no more than half drank. Harry only took one sip of his beverage. There was nothing wrong with the taste, but his throat still felt constricted with what was probably anxiety and dread and he could not swallow more than a mouthful. He turned to the group sitting at the dining table and spoke in what he hoped would be an unequivocal tone.

"Listen, there are a lot of rooms and I want you all to make yourselves at home. Kreacher will get whatever you need. It's been a long night. I really think we ought to all go to bed."

"Not me," said George with determination. "I'm going back after the chocolate. I'm going to catch the bastard who sent those monsters on our house."

"I'm going with you," said Ginny and Percy together.

"No, it's too dangerous," said Ron's dad, raising his head to stare at his children with his most compelling expression.

"I agree with Mr Weasley," said Harry, and he thought that he saw Hermione's jaw drop in surprise. "We can't do anything right now. And we can't all go back either."

"_What_?" George cried out, incredulous.

But Harry's plan was already formed in his mind and he felt confident enough not to let George or Percy's pleading change his mind. The danger of the situation could not be denied. Someone had to step up and give direction in order to avoid any rash decision that could lead to more tragedy.

"Ron, Hermione and I will go because it concerns the stuff that Dumbledore left us to do last year," he said in the most self-assured tone that he could muster.

He was glad when Ron and Hermione stepped to each side of him to show their support.

"No way," George replied back. "No Dementor is going to keep me away from my home."

"You don't even live there anymore," Ron said impatiently.

"It's where Fred and I grew up!"

At the mention of Fred, everyone fell silent. Only the sound of the clock could be heard.

"George and Percy, you're staying here. You're going to be the guards of Grimmauld Place and everyone here will be under your responsibility, including Kreacher. The house needs new protective spells so you have a lot of work on your hands," said Harry.

Percy seemed to agree with the idea and he nodded understandingly.

"You can't tell me what to do," George muttered under his breath.

"George, please," pleaded Mrs Weasley. "For once, can you just do as you're told? We don't want to loose you. We don't want to loose another child. I couldn't… I can't bare it! It's so awful! Oh, Fred!"

And on that heartbreaking note, she buried her face into her hands and began sobbing uncontrollably, and was immediately followed by Mrs Granger and Hermione. Harry glanced to his side to see if Ginny was also crying, but she wasn't, as he had expected. She looked more resolute than ever. Her wand was closed so firmly on her wand that her knuckles were white. Harry thought that he saw a wisp of silver smoke around her tight fist.

"Are you going into hiding again?" she whispered through gritted teeth.

"No, we're not. We'll be back, I promise."

He wanted to say something reassuring, but the crying was making his mind quite blank. He was tired and cold. He tried to eat a chocolate truffle but it had no effect at all.

When the sobbing started to die away, Mr Granger rose from his chair, holding his wife's hand as she stood up as well.

"I think we'll take your offer and go to bed, Harry."

"Good call," said Mr Weasley, raising from his chair as well but taking the time to gulp down another little ball of chocolate.

Following Mr Weasley, they all started to leave the room one by one. When Harry turned around to speak to Ginny, she had already gone. George swore under his breath as he disappeared into the hallway. Hermione gave Harry a concerned glanced as she left to show her parents to their room.

"Well, what do you reckon? Slughorn and the Dementors, is there a link?" Ron asked quietly and staring at Hermione's back although she could no longer be seen from where they stood.

He was chewing on a truffle and his hot chocolate cup was empty. The Chudley Cannons rucksack was hoisted on his left shoulder and he kept swinging it down and back up again like he used to do with his school bag at Hogwarts. He seemed to have completely recovered from the attack, which Harry was grateful for. He needed someone who could think properly.

"Maybe Slughorn can get Dementors to do what he wants," Harry replied, racking his brain. "I wonder how it's done, giving them orders. We have to find that out."

"I'll ask Hermione," said Ron as though it held all the answers in the world.

"Right," said Harry with a half-smile.

"Slughorn's up to something. We have to get on his trail. I want to pay a visit to Xeno Lovegood like we said, but we could also…"

"In the morning, mate," Ron cut in, clapping Harry on the back. "It can wait a few hours. We're safe here, right? So try to relax a bit, okay?"

Harry had to admit that Ron was right, but the thought of relaxing made him think of Ginny and her bitter comments about his leaving. Somehow, that did not lighten up his mood.

"Do you think it's alright if we don't share rooms?"

Harry couldn't hide his look of surprise. It took him a short moment to realise what Ron was asking and what he could possibly have in mind.

"Oh, right. Okay. I'll be in Sirius' bedroom."

"Thanks mate."

And Ron left, climbing the stairs two by two as he hurried towards the direction that Hermione had taken. Slowly, Harry headed towards his own room, feeling dumbstruck, wondering if he would ever get used to the idea of Ron and Hermione being a couple. And then he thought of Ginny again and wondered if she would let him in if he showed up at her door. But he didn't even know which one it was. So he went to his room alone, and slept uneasily for what felt like a few minutes. And though the sun cast its warm morning beams through his bedroom windows, he woke up shuddering still with cold.


	12. Chapter 12

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twelve 

Harry got up the following day with the firm intention to begin his investigation as soon as possible. He would wake up Ron and Hermione if needed. And if they were not willing, then he would set out alone. He had it all worked out. First, he needed to find out what more Xeno Lovegood knew about the Deathly Hallows and this master of Death business. Secondly, he would pay a visit to the Ministry of Magic to find out who sent the Dementors to the Burrow. And thirdly, he was going to try to find Horace Slughorn who was probably now hiding.

The plan had formed itself in his mind as he had been dressing up, but he had been forced to reconsider his priorities when he had glanced at his bare chest. On the mirror in front of him, he could see the black mark quite clearly now. It wasn't just a fingerprint in size and shape anymore, it was roughly as big as a Snitch in circumference and it had taken a distinct appearance. It was no longer an inkblot but three spirals connected together by their starting point in the middle in such a way as to give the impression of a triangular shape with round edges. Harry had a hunch that he had seen the picture before but he could not recall where. He was a lot more concerned about the fact that it had appeared uncalled for on his skin as though it had been magically drawn there, like a tattoo, or, as Hermione was sure to point out, like a Death Eater's Dark Mark.

Harry tried not to think too much about the strange symbol as he dressed up and decided to keep to the original plan, with the small addition to talk to Hermione about the mark before they set out to the Lovegood's. His priority was to ensure the safety of the Weasleys and Hermione's parents, and the only way that he could do that was by making sure that they knew all that they could about the Deathly Hallows. After that, finding what Slughorn was up to would be easier. The idea that there was more to the story than what was laid out in the book of the Tales of Beedle the Bard was not at all comforting. When they had first spoken about it with Xeno Lovegood, he had told them that there were believers in the Deathly Hallows. This seemed to suggest that there were more than a few people interested in possessing the sacred objects. Harry was beginning to realize just what was implied in that idea. He had a fleeting image of himself facing an army of wizards all wearing the Hallows' symbol on their robes and chanting in unison while dead corpses were rising from their graves like in Michael Jackson's _Thriller_ video.

After a long time staring at the mirror alone with his dread and his own thoughts, he finally left his room and headed downstairs wearing clothes that must have belonged to Sirius: black pants, a waist length black jacket, and a grey long-sleeved shirt with a stylish silver 'D' on it. His phoenix wand was in his right pocket, and the Elder Wand was in the left. As he had looked more closely at Sirius' old clothes, which were now all clean and neatly folded in the drawers, he had noticed that there were many 'D's on his shirts, always with the same stylish silver lettering. But his clothes and appearance was the last thing on his mind at the moment. He was going to have some breakfast, and then…

But his idea to eat alone and in silence quickly died away as he heard Ron's low voice in the kitchen.

"What about you, George? Did you know about dad?"

"We thought it was mum for the longest time, Fred and I," said George as coolly as if he was talking about the weather. "Dad became very protective of her. We should have picked up on it. It must have been horrible for him at work, but he kept putting in extra hours, hence the increasing stress levels. They interrogated him, interrogated mum, interrogated everyone at Bill's wedding, and they searched the house of course, many times throughout the year. Sorry you missed the Weasleys' rise to fame, Ron. We were quite a wanted lot. Now it's all over, except for the Dementors, and Slughorn, and Potter-hating owl post…"

"We were watched closely by Ministry officials," said Percy on top of George's voice. "But they never dared arrest us or anything because they thought that you would make contact eventually, which I'm proud to say you didn't."

"Well, it came very close…" said Ron almost inaudibly.

"But the point is that you didn't and I'm really proud of you too… _George, will you stop it_?"

The light in the kitchen was going on and off at an escalating pace and apparently it was getting on Hermione's nerves.

"Amazing! That's true genius, if you ask me. Good old Dumbledore, bless him. I wish I could find out how it works. Then we could market it. 'Deluminator' is a very winning name. We could sell it next to our Everlasting Sunlight Bulbs… _Harry_! Good morning!"

As soon as he saw Harry, Ron took the device out of George's hands and stuffed it into his Chudley Cannons rucksack hastily with a guilty expression on his face.

"What's going on?" Harry asked when all faces turned to him.

George, Percy, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were sitting close together at the dining table, drinking nothing but water and munching on pieces of dried bread.

"Harry, you ought to talk to Kreacher. He refuses to give us breakfast. I think he's waiting for you to tell him to do it. And he won't let us help into the pantry. I'm really starving, you know," said Hermione rapidly.

Harry immediately called Kreacher and asked him to bring breakfast. To everyone's delight, the table was soon filled with fresh coffee, bread, orange juice, strawberry jam and ten different kinds of cheese.

"So, again, what's going on?" Harry repeated as he was considering taking the seat opposite Ginny.

She looked up at him, and then back at her plate, smiling.

"You go to Durmstrang now?" she said with her voice close to a giggle.

The other Weasleys were looking at him as though he had just told a good joke. The presence of many 'D's on Sirius' clothes seemed to hold some meaning after all.

"Well, you know, I thought I might take on higher studies in a foreign country," Harry said, staring down at the front of his shirt and trying hard to keep a straight face.

They all stared at him as though he had announced that he was going back at the Dursley's.

"It's a joke. I'm trying to light up the mood. I'm wearing Sirius's clothes."

George seemed to be the only one delighted by Harry's small attempt at making a humorous comment. He happily clapped Harry on the back as he sat.

"See? I told you he wouldn't be in a foul mood. They thought you'd get out of your mind if you saw that we were all waiting in here instead of being in our rooms like good little children."

Harry tried not to show signs of being frustrated. He had half-expected that he would have to make his plan known before they could set out for any destination. The look of determination on Ginny's face was proof that he had been right to anticipate this.

"Harry knows that we're not children anymore," said Ginny in a resolute tone, rising from her plate, and staring at him with her bright eyes. "And he's going to have to hear what we have to say."

"Harry, we swear, we didn't tell them anything…" Hermione began to plead.

But Harry could only stare at Ginny. There was something so mature in her whole countenance. She was wearing a long forest green witch's robe with black lace at the sleeves and a black leather belt. She looked confident more than arrogant. Except for the red hair, she might have been Sirius's younger sister just by her demeanour.

"We know about the Deathly Hallows."

Harry was stunned. Ginny had spoken as though she understood the implications, but to Harry it only meant that they were all probably more in danger than he had thought.

"We don't know everything," Percy corrected Ginny, which caused her to frown in the direction of her oldest brother. "We know that you possess a wand of legend that may or may not be the Wand of Destiny or Elder Wand. We know that you have an invisibility cloak, of course, that's not a secret. But we don't know about a stone, so we assume that it must have been handed down to you by Dumbledore in his will. We've seen Ron's Deluminator and what it does, but we don't know what became of the Snitch, so we concluded that the Resurrection Stone must have been inside it."

Harry saw George shift on his chair at the mention of the Resurrection Stone. Hermione must have caught the momentary uneasiness as well because she pressed a nervous hand on the front of her shirt to feel the presence of the heart-shaped locket and the stone inside it.

"I see you've given this some thought," said Harry, crossing his arms on his chest.

"Not really," Ginny replied, grinning. "Hermione's book of Beedle the Bard was a bit of a give away. We knew all along what you were up to."

"You should have brought Ginny along, mate," George suggested, smiling fondly at his sister. "She knows stuff. Oh, Merlin's beard, that's really it, isn't it?"

George's expression changed to one of surprise as well as he stared from Harry, to Ron, to Hermione. Ron and Hermione were so pale and speechless that to deny the facts just mentioned seemed rather pointless. Their expression was a dead give-away.

"That's what Slughorn is after, the Hallows, right?" said Ginny darkly. "He didn't find anything during the one-minute delay with the Vampire Ashes, so he sent Dementors."

"You're drawing hasty conclusions, Ginevra," Percy reprimanded her. "We don't know yet that _Professor_ Slughorn…"

"Come off it, Perce," George cut in. "He even gave us his motive when he told us about his dead girlfriend. The man thinks the Hallows will give him a second chance."

"_Maybe_," said Percy, unconvinced. "But we won't know for sure until we know what Harry's got. It could very well be all fairy tales."

As he said this, Harry pulled out the Elder Wand from his pocket and placed at the center of the table. The effect was quite dramatic. Even Percy forgot what he had been saying to look at the object in wonder.

"It was Dumbledore's wand," said Harry. "As far as anyone else outside of this room is concerned, that's all that it is."

He felt immensely relieved to be showing them the Wand. It was as though he was having a great weight lifted from his shoulder. But at the same time, it was alarming to see how easily they had come up with the conclusion that he was in possession of the legendary objects.

"And the other Hallows?" George asked.

Ron and Hermione stared at Harry, waiting for his word to pull out the items. He nodded to them and Ron swung his orange rucksack unto the table while Hermione took the golden chain out from under her clothes. There was a moment when Hermione hesitated with her hands around her neck; at length, she lowered them without untying the chain.

"Of course," said Percy, marvelling. "Three objects, three keepers. You have to admire Dumbledore's genius again. He knew what he was doing."

"That's not what you told me. You told me it was your mother's protection that saved you."

George's tone was cold, but Harry couldn't blame him.

"What I told you was true, George," said Harry impassively. "My mother's protection saved me from Voldemort's Killing Curse. The whole 'master of Death' deal in the Tale of the Three Brothers isn't really about conquering death; it's about accepting it."

"I know that," George muttered under his breath. "Don't you think I'd know that? I grew up with those stories."

Harry tried to remain calm although he found George's replies to be alarming. In any case, it was making Hermione nervous; she kept moving her seat closer to Ron, inch by inch.

"Dumbledore just gave us tools that he knew could help us defeat Voldemort," said Harry.

"The Hallows are more than just tools, Harry," George pointed out.

"Well, I guess you don't know everything then," Ron snapped back before Harry could reply.

"What's that supposed to mean?" said Ginny forcefully.

She was sitting on the edge of her seat, glaring at Ron.

"It means exactly what I said."

"Stop it!" Hermione yelled out. "That's enough, all of you! Dumbledore led us to the Hallows for a purpose. Now that it's all over we're stuck with this problem. Aren't there enough attacks? We have to destroy them."

George and Percy looked appalled.

"Are you mental? Do you know what good you could do with that Wand, or with the Stone? You could bring back Fred!"

There was a silence during which everyone stared at George. Ginny reached out to take his hand. Again, Harry was forced to admire how gentle and firm she could be in her behaviour.

"Fred wouldn't want to come back," she said softly, stroking George's hand.

He looked up at her with imploring eyes, and then he looked around him as though he was awaking from a fearful dream.

"I know. I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that. I'm sorry, Harry."

George quickly turned around and left the table, pretending to be looking for something on the counter. Harry put the Elder Wand back in his pocket and took a bite at his toast. When George eventually returned to the table, they seemed all ready for action at last.

"What's the plan?" Ron asked, brushing crumps off the rucksack and placing it on the floor again.

"You're really going to destroy them?" Percy demanded, looking slightly crestfallen. "I totally understand why, of course, but it seems a little… cruel. There are many places where they could be safely hidden…"

"Well, we thought the Stone was safe in the Dark Forest," Ron began to explain.

Harry told them at once the tale of Firenze's request, the attack in the Dark Forest by the half-human creature and the arrow that nearly killed him.

"It could have been Slughorn in the forest," said Ginny thoughtfully.

"Well, we might get clear on that once we know who set the Dementors on our house," said Percy before his sister could make any further assumptions. "I'm finishing up on a letter to Kingsley Shaklebolt. If anyone can tell us who's using the Dementors without proper authorisation, he will. He knows everything that goes on in the Ministry of Magic now."

Harry was rather impressed by Percy willingness to participate given the fact that he had been less than likely to do so for the major part of last year.

"Don't look at me like that," said Percy impatiently, frowning at the faces around the table. "What do you think I was doing at the Ministry last year, making coffee? I was working for Kingsley as a mole. Not even mum and dad knew about it.

"Oh, Percy!" said Hermione, clasping her hands over her mouth. She looked almost tearful.

"Our brother's a Weasley through and through," George commented fondly. "We had our doubts, but there you have it."

"What about the Hallows, then?" Ginny asked, staring at Harry.

"We don't know how to destroy them," he said truthfully. "We're going to pay a visit to someone who might: Xeno Lovegood."

"Of course!" said Ginny. "And Luna will be glad to see us."

Ron and Hermione turned to Harry as though they could read his mind, but he had already given the idea some thought.

"I reckon Ginny should come with us," he said to his two friends. "She can repel Dementors if we're attacked again. My Patronus did something funny…"

"It wasn't your regular Patronus, Harry. It was something else. You – or the Wand – it cast something in the sky. There was a symbol."

Harry felt stunned. He could remember the flash of light, but it was true that he had not seen if he had managed to produce a shield.

"What symbol?" he asked, unable to hide the dread in his voice.

As only reply, Hermione took out her wand and drew the sign in midair. It was three spirals, connected at their starting point, and forming the triangular shape that Harry knew all too well.

"I've seen this somewhere," said Ron pensively.

"'Course you have, Ron," George laughed. "It's the mark of the Weird Sisters!"

Harry silently wished that George wouldn't joke about this.

"No, really, it is," George repeated with the same playful tone. "You're really pushing being a fan to the next level, Harry. Imagine if the Daily Prophet finds out about your new Patronus… Why am I getting the look of despair?"

Harry was robbing his chest as though he was dirty, tainted. Was this it, then? Was it nothing more than someone's idea of a joke?

"Harry?" Hermione said softly. "It's not just your Patronus, is it?"

He shook his head.

"Then I think you should show us your mark."


	13. Chapter 13

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter thirteen 

"What do you reckon they are doing up there?"

"I dunno," said Harry absent-mindedly, glancing up at the stairway for what felt like the hundredth time.

They were standing in the narrow hallway, near the front door, ready to leave. Ginny had gone back upstairs to change and Hermione had followed her with the same excuse.

Harry glanced at his watch and rolled his eyes up. He already felt like they had wasted too much time and he could not grasp why it was so important to change clothes. _Girls_, he thought with a sigh of exasperation.

"I know what you mean, mate. Want to curse them, but can't live without them. That's what you call ironic."

Harry's smile at Ron's comment was rather weak. This morning's conversation had left him quite drained and slightly stunned at his own reaction. He had not planned on showing the black mark to anyone but Ron and Hermione, and that was because they already knew about it. Then again, he had not expected to be talking openly about the Hallows with anyone but his two friends either. A few hours ago, they had been the only ones to know the true nature of the Wand, the Stone and the Cloak. Now, this information had been entrusted into three new individuals. In his heart, Harry knew that George and Percy's reliability was absolute, but a small part of him still wondered about the look on George's face when he had glanced at the pendant on Hermione's neck. As for Ginny, he wasn't sure where the idea to include her in the plan had come into place. It had been almost natural to allow her to tag along. Perhaps it had been the stubborn look on her face that had induced him. But whatever his feelings, he knew for certain that there was no way that he could talk her out of it now.

"Are you scared?" Ron asked all of a sudden, which brought Harry out of his reverie. "I mean, if it was me, I'd be scared. I wouldn't want a tattoo on my chest, except maybe a dragon with fire coming out of its mouth. Charlie has a Hungarian Horntail on his shoulder blade. Mum and dad don't know about it, of course. But that spiral thing, it's a bit uncanny, isn't it?"

Harry shrugged.

"As long as there's no picture of me naked in the Daily Prophet so that everyone can see it, I'm good."

"You think Hermione would like me with a tattoo?"

"Definitely, no."

Ron fell silent and glanced up at the stairway pensively. Harry could tell that his friend was trying very hard not to sound too concerned, but the truth was that Ron had more reasons to be anxious than anyone else in the entire Wizarding World. His family was deeply involved with Harry, and that had been an unsafe position from his first year at Hogwarts. The loss of Fred, Hermione being tortured not so long ago, and Mr Weasley's illness, none of those events had changed their attitude and they still cared for Harry like one of their own. Yet he could not help but feel guilty for the situation that they were in again. Ron's nervousness was completely legitimate, but he couldn't ask his friend to stay with his family because he already knew the answer to that. Ron and Hermione would never accept to be left behind.

"Maybe I should Summon them," said Harry with a half-smile, trying to sound cheerful.

His attempt at a joke fell quite flat. Ron was staring pensively at the stairs, fiddling with the fastenings on his orange rucksack, looking gloomy and apprehensive.

"Amazing how they came easily to the right conclusion about the Hallows, didn't they?"

"But they still don't know everything," Harry answered, repeating what had been said earlier. "I think it's better if they don't find out about the Horcruxes yet. We have enough on our hands as it is."

There was a moment of silence, and then Ron let out a groan of frustration that made Harry almost jump in surprise.

"Do you wonder about that mark on your chest at all? It's like you don't care! I mean, you had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside you, and now you have that strange symbol… And you act like it's no big deal."

Harry had the impression that Ron had been holding back this notion ever since he had first shown them the black mark at the Burrow. They had spoken very little about the outcome of the confrontation between Harry and Voldemort. He had given his two friends only the plain facts, and he was not sure that he was ready to go further into the subject. There were too many implications in what Ron had just voiced out. He had not dared think about all of the possibilities, about the small chance that Voldemort may have succeeded in creating one or more Horcruxes before the end. And if there was another Horcrux, would he know? Would he be able to feel it? Would he still have that connection? What if the vision he had had earlier was linked to that possibility?

_No, don't think about that. Don't think about that… _he thought hastily, pushing the idea out of his mind.

"It _is_ a big deal, Ron. I want it to be over, just like you, but it's not. I'm just trying to keep a clear head, that's all. We can't get sidetracked."

"I just wished you would panic or something. There's nothing wrong with panicking. It's _normal_ to panic."

"You think I'm not panicked?" Harry snapped back, raising his voice. "I'm terrorized! I'm cold and I can't sleep. I've been attacked and shot at, and I'm afraid the next time one of you is going to get hurt. I'm scared for your family, Ron. So there you have it: panic."

"What about Voldemort's soul and your mark? I'm sure you're thinking that there might be a link."

Harry took a deep breath, remembering the vision that he had had in Ron's room at the Burrow. The running footsteps, the dread, the horror at what he was going to find, although he did not know what lay in front of him, that had all been _his_ feelings, he was sure of it. Not Voldemort's. _His_. He would know the difference. Or would he?

"He's gone, Ron. I'm sure of it," he said as convincingly as he could. Ron raised both his eyebrows in scepticism. "Look," Harry continued, "Hermione seems certain that the mark is linked to the Hallows. That's good enough for me. Let's just find a way to destroy the Hallows and we'll see what happens to the mark. Maybe there's no link at all. Maybe it's just a stupid jinx."

"I just don't like the idea of pieces of Voldemort's soul flying around, that's all," said Ron quietly with some level of relief in his voice. "It's just sickening."

"It couldn't just fly around, Ron. It can't survive on its own. It needs…"

He wanted to say something reassuring to his friend, to give some proof that Voldemort was destroyed for good, but sudden movement in the shadowy hallway had caught his eyes. He took a step closer to Ron and spoke in a whisper.

"Do you feel like we're being watched?"

Ron jumped and turned quickly on the spot, pushing Harry back to the wall with his whole body and pointing his wand from one end of the hallway to the other menacingly.

"I mean the paintings!" Harry let out in a breath. "The portraits on the wall, Ron!"

"I thought… The portraits, yeah," Ron said innocently, stuffing his wand away hastily in his back pocket and releasing Harry.

Ron moved closer to the wall, trying to avoid Harry's mystified stare. They had talked about how safe Grimmauld Place was for all of them. Hermione had given it the usual protections. Ron had the right to be edgy and on the defensive since his whole family, or at least a good portion of it, had barely escaped an attack by hundreds of Dementors. But certainly, Ron's reaction at the thought of an intruder in Harry's house was overdoing it.

"What was that all about?" Harry asked, unsure if he should be angry or amused.

But Ron was ignoring him. He was staring at the portraits on the wall.

"I think we do have company, mate."

A small yellow puppy was sniffing the floor and wagging its tail in one of the paintings just in front of the stairway. Kreacher's thorough cleaning, it seemed, had succeeded in restoring the pictures' backgrounds to their original state, and there were a few additional ones that Harry had never seen but that looked less severe than the rest. Some on them could have fitted in quite nicely at Hogwarts. The occupants of those paintings could be seen walking in and out of the frames, uncertain as to whether or not they were welcomed back. The small puppy looked as though it was going to stay as it settled itself on an old rug in front of a dark fireplace.

"Oh, I always wanted to go to Durmstrang," said a little girl in one of the portraits before a severe woman in a black dress and grey apron came to pull her out of the picture with an anxious look over her shoulder at Harry and Ron. Harry was slightly reminded of Professor McGonagall.

"I reckon this place finally looks like it's ready for you to move in," Ron said with a smirk. "And by the way, that Durmstrang shirt is going to get you into trouble."

"Yeah. Listen, Ron, you don't have to protect me…"

"Ready to go?"

They had not seen or heard Ginny and Hermione coming down the stairs; they were carrying their shoes in their hands to make as little noise as possible.

"Mum and dad are waking up," Ginny whispered rapidly, putting on black ballerina-like slippers on her bare feet. "We had better go now."

When Harry closed the door behind them, they were welcomed outside by a chilly breeze and a murky sky. Ginny took a step towards the street but Hermione immediately grabbed her by the forearm.

"No, we've got to stay on the doorstep otherwise we'll be seen and we don't know who may be watching. Oh! Hold on, I need to tie on my shoes."

She held out her beaded bag to Ron and leaned against the door, trying to reach her feet on the crowded doorstep. Harry was thankful to see that Hermione had thought to bring her useful handbag. He imagined that she had packed it with a number of helpful things such as sandwiches, Polyjuice Potion and her entire collection of spell books.

"We had better not linger here," said Hermione, straightening up. "Side-Along Apparition, everyone. Hold on tight."

"I could do it…" Harry offered, thinking of how he had been able to bring them all to the safety of Grimmauld Place regardless of the Burrow's Anti-Apparition jinx.

"No, Harry," Hermione replied right away. "We don't know what it was and Kreacher said it was Dark Magic."

"Yeah, Kreacher is our new reference now," Ron commented, rolling his eyes up.

Hermione shot Ron a dirty look.

"You know what I mean, Ron. Whatever Harry did, it didn't feel right. Remember the clock? It was like a few hours just vanished into thin air."

"Well, I just don't want to end up Splinched again," said Ron, pointing at the place on his shoulder where he had suffered the loss of a big chunk of flesh on their narrow escape from Grimmauld Place almost exactly one year to the day.

"It wasn't my fault!" Hermione cried indignantly.

"When you two are done with your bickering," Ginny suddenly cut in, "you can just catch up with us at Luna's house."

As she said this, Ginny took Harry's hand and both of them Disapparated with a surprising ease. For the first time, the experience was enjoyable to Harry, like taking a deep plunge and emerging out of the water a little short of breath, but strangely revitalized.

"I always liked this place," said Ginny, staring around fondly at their new surroundings, and still clinging to Harry's hand. "It's a little wild, like Luna. It looks like it's going to rain, though."

But Harry was not looking at the scenery. Even in the bleak weather, Ginny seemed to generate an aura of brightness. She had shortened her green dress so that it fell just a little over her knees. Her hair was blowing around her face like a warm fire.

"You have a dreamy look," she said, smiling at him.

"No… Yes… I mean, you look nice."

She kissed him, and for a moment Harry forgot about the few drops of rain and the task that lay in front of them.

"You're so cold, Harry. I don't like it. We have to find out about that."

"I don't feel cold now…" he said shyly.

She kissed him again.

"I can't stand Ron and Hermione's bickering," he said when she pulled back a little, "and I always want to Apparate with you from now on. Where are they, anyway?"

As soon as he said this, there was a familiar _crack_ and Ron and Hermione appeared a foot away from where Harry and Ginny where standing. They both staggered a little as they recovered their balance. They had Apparated in a rather close embrace.

"What took you so long?" said Harry, half-smiling at how uncomfortable they looked.

"We made up first, so no more bickering," Hermione replied quickly before turning to Ginny. "You haven't passed your Apparition Test! You're not seventeen yet and you're not authorised to…"

"I can do whatever I want," Ginny cut in with a smirk.

Hermione's face turned red. She looked like a younger McGonnagal.

"No, you can't…"

"Yes, I can. I'm Pure-Blood all the way down to the first wizards whose names can be found in pre-Ministry of Magic records. I think we're even related to Godric Gryffindor."

Harry could not hide his shock. Ginny, on the other hand, had a mocking grin on her face. With a sigh of exasperation, she went on to explain.

"It was like that last year. Pure-Bloods were given all the privileges without having to do so much as to flick a wand. I guess they haven't had time to restore the old rules yet. So until then, I can Apparate all I want."

It was one of those rare occasions where Hermione became speechless.

"You don't have to make a big deal out of it," said Ron indignantly to his sister.

She wasn't paying attention to him. She was staring into the distance at the shape of Luna's house which was barely visible through the trees. There were drops of rain on her hair and on Harry's glasses now.

"I should tell you," Ginny began to say, "Luna is a little paranoid lately. More than usual, I mean."

"How come?" Harry asked, pulling out his phoenix wand and quickly casting a Water-Repelling jinx on his glasses.

He had hesitated before choosing his old wand. In his back pocket, he felt the other one vibrate feebly as though protesting against his selection. But he couldn't risk loosing control with the most powerful wand in the world while he was performing a Water-Repelling spell on Ginny's head.

No one seemed to notice his hesitation as the attention was focused on Ginny's explanations.

"I told you Slughorn's been to her house, right? That was the day of the Clearwater funeral. Well, she reckons Slughorn did something to her dad. She says that he wasn't the same after, that he wouldn't answer her questions. They tell each other everything, you see. Neville said that paranoia is just the result of her being captured and all that, but that doesn't sound like her. She's usually a good judge of people."

"When did you talk to Neville?" Ron asked, puzzled.

"At the Clearwater funeral, Ron. Everyone was there."

"We weren't there…" said Harry, taken aback.

"Well, no," Ginny answered with an accusing look at Ron and Hermione. "Apparently, some _people_ thought you couldn't handle two funerals in a row."

Harry wheeled around to face his two friends, but Hermione stopped him with a poised voice.

"Harry, it was for your own good. Ron and I didn't go either. We didn't feel up to it."

The anger seemed to be mounting inside of him and with it the Elder Wand began to vibrate again. He had to control his temper. He had no choice.

"What do we do about Luna and her dad, then?" he said between gritted teeth and after a long intake of air.

"It might be a good idea to talk to Luna and her dad separately," said Hermione. "Her dad may have been Imperiused. If so, I don't think that _Finite_ _Incantatem_ is going to be enough. I don't know how to undo that kind of magic."

"You'll figure it out," said Ron caringly.

"Thanks, Ron, but I wouldn't bet on it to be honest. Theoretically, it takes a good Legilimens to undo an Imperius Curse. This is magic far beyond any of us. We haven't had that kind of training yet."

Slughorn's voice seemed to echo in Harry's mind: _You should go back to your books, Potter. You're going to need it._

"Where's Snape when you need him?" Harry commented, hoping that this would enlighten the mood.

Only Ginny replied to his remark with a smile. Ron was thinking so hard that there were lines on his forehead.

"Slughorn came here. He must have been looking for information on the Hallows. Xeno Lovegood's told him what he needed to know, and Slughorn erased all traces of his visit with a Memory Charm. He knows we're coming too, because we came here last year for the same reason, but he doesn't care because he already knows what Xeno Lovegood knows. We're not a threat to him because he's a step ahead of us."

The rest of them fell silent, taking in Ron's theory.

"Don't you see?" he burst out. "We're walking into a trap! Why didn't you give us this information before?"

Ginny glared at her brother as though daring him to accuse her of anything.

"We won't be walking into a trap if we are expecting one, Ron," she snapped back. "What would _you_ do? Wait at Grimmauld Place until there is another attack?"

"I prefer knowing what I'm walking into," Ron replied crossly. "Do you realise that it's Harry's life you're risking?"

"Don't you dare tell me what I am risking, Ronald Weasley!"

"That's enough!" Hermione interrupted, placing herself between Ron and his sister. "Honestly, this is intolerable. It's not going to work if we keep arguing."

Ron and Ginny stared at her, each of them mumbling a small and inaudible "I'm sorry" while throwing each other dirty looks.

"Let's get a good look at the place before we jump to conclusions," said Harry all-of-a-sudden, taking the first steps towards the house which was still small in the distance. "Pull your wands out, and keep your eyes opened."

They walked in silence over a short distance before reaching the small stream running alongside the house. It was beginning to rain more heavily and they found some cover under the trees to get a better look at their surroundings without being seen. The house was exactly how Harry remembered it. He could not see any sign of the explosion that had nearly destroyed it during their previous visit. It had been repaired and put back exactly the way it had been.

"Maybe you three should stay here while I go and knock at the door," Ginny offered. "I've been here before. It won't look weird or anything. Then I'll let you know if it's safe to come along or not. I could send my Patronus."

"No offence, but your Patronus isn't very discreet, Ginny," said Ron hesitantly. He glanced rapidly at Hermione to make sure that she approved of the tone with which he was addressing his sister. "It's really nice, though. When did your Patronus become a Phoenix?"

For a moment, Harry forgot why he was poring over the house. Ginny's Patronus was a Pheonix? He had seen the bird-like figure and its large wings, but he had not realised that it had been a phoenix. During the DA lessons, it had been a horse. What could possibly have triggered such a change?

Before he could make any comment, however, a red light shot past him and came crashing into a tree to his right with a loud _bang_.

"Get down! Harry, take cover!" Ron shouted.

He did not even have time to cast a spell. Something heavy had collided with his back and was now forcing him unto the ground with such strength that he could not even look up. His phoenix wand had fallen on the impact and he could not see it anywhere on the ground around him. All that he could make out were more red lights erupting around him like fireworks and Ginny's black shoes an inch from his nose.

"_Protego_!" said Ron's voice as Harry tried to hoist his body up, without success.

To his left and right, he heard Hermione and Ginny cast Shield Charms.

"Ron, what are you doing? Let me go!" he said, panting and sputtering.

But Ron was holding him down firmly with one knee on his back. His rib cage was being painfully crushed against the ground. A hand on the back of his neck was keeping his head an inch from the grass.

"This is crazy! Let me go!"

But his voice broke as he grasped for air. He definitely would have to talk to Ron about this new obsession about his safety. As far as he could see, the red lights were hitting the trees; they were not aimed directly at them. _Warning shots_, thought Harry.

"Who's there? Show yourself!" Ginny cried out.

Harry could see her fully now, a few steps ahead of him, her wand held up high.

"Show yourself first! The next shots vill not miss."

The deep masculine tone and foreign accent were unmistakable.

"Viktor?" Ginny shouted back. "Viktor, it's me! I'm here with Ron and Hermione."

"Prove it. Vat's the passvord?"

"_A small rock holds back a great wave_," said Ginny loud and clear.

There was a pause, and then the form of Viktor Krum appeared a short distance ahead from beyond a rosebush. He flicked his wand and the branches behind which he had been hiding retracted into the earth as though they were growing in reverse. He began to walk towards them, duck-footed and clumsy on the unlevelled ground, but still menacing with his dark hair and broad shoulders.

"I knew you vould show up soon," he said when he was close enough that he didn't have to shout.

"How do _we_ know it's you?" Ron said with force.

Perhaps it was the pain building up on his back or the fact that he was lying on the ground face first, but from the sound of his voice, Harry could have sworn that Ron was standing to his immediate left and not on top of him. Yet there was still a heavy weight pressing on his back, forcing him down, crushing the air out of him.

"My Patronus is a lion," Krum replied as he came up to Ginny's level.

"It's true," she said, sounding relieved. "It's all right, everyone. It's really him."

Harry saw Krum and Ginny exchange a smile and suddenly understood how Ron must have felt when the famous Bulgarian Seeker had been close to Hermione. This notion only doubled his present feeling of frustration and humiliation. He was going to stand up and be filthy and wet in front of Krum, if Ron would only release him.

"Ron, you can let me go now," Harry said in one breath. He could feel the Elder Wand vibrating in his pocket again as his temper was rising.

_I'm _not_ going to kill Ron_, he thought over and over again, trying hard to control his irritation. _I'm not going to kill Ron. I'm just going to Petrify him._

"Is Harry vit you?" Krum asked, looking around.

And suddenly, out of the corner of his eyes, Harry saw Ron's worn out trainers. He tried to move, but the weight was still on his back, crushing him down.

"I threw the Cloak on him when you started shooting Stunning Spells at us," said Ron.

He got closer to Ginny, Hermione and Krum without turning back to where Harry was lying but fiddling with his empty orange rucksack.

"Good thinking, Ron!" said Hermione, reaching out to take Ron's hand.

"I didn't think he would actually keep it on," he replied a little hesitantly.

"Hey, I'm here!" Harry yelled, half-alarmed, half-annoyed. "A little help, please?"

The Cloak couldn't be the only thing that Ron had thrown at him since he could not move, not even his arms. Had he been hit by a Body-Bind Spell? Ron wouldn't have done that, unless he was really out of his mind.

"Harry, where are you?" said Hermione, looking around.

"I'm here!" he shouted again. "Can't you… Can't you hear me?"

"Wait," said Ginny. "It might still be dangerous for Harry. Why were you standing guard, Viktor? Has something happened to Luna and her dad?"

"Mr Lovegood," muttered Krum with a meaningful look in the direction of the house. "I found him. He vas cursed, I think. I brought him here."

"Let's talk about this inside, then," said Hermione with a nervous glance at the woods where Harry was still lying on the ground.

He shouted again but no one seemed to either see him or hear him. His last yell died in his throat. It was becoming harder and harder to breathe crushed as he was against the ground. The more he tried to stir, it seemed, the more the weight on his back became persistent.

"Don't go!" he said, but his voice sounded like a hoarse whisper.

It was too late. Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Krum had turned their backs to him. They were now walking towards the Lovegood's house in haste, convinced that Harry was following them under the Invisibility Cloak. Only Ginny seemed to hesitate. She paused to glance back in the direction of the woods, but she resumed her course after a short moment. There was a roar of thunder, and then he was all alone.


	14. Chapter 14

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter fourteen 

_Please, come back_, Harry thought despairingly over and over again.

The rain was pouring now and what had been solid ground was starting to turn into mud. If he did not soon find a way to free himself of the Invisibility Cloak, he would die dirty, alone and terribly wet. If only he could reach his phoenix wand, or the Elder Wand…

As he thought this, the Elder Wand gave a shudder and Harry was certain that it was starting to react to his state of panic.

_Get the Cloak o__ff me_, he thought imperatively, hoping that the Wand would take this as a command.

It did not work, however, and he felt his body sinking lower into the muddy ground, his rib cage unbearably crushed. He could hear thunder and heavy rain falling on the trees. If the Elder Wand was not responding, then he needed his phoenix wand, or any wand, otherwise he was doomed.

"_Accio_ wand," he managed to voice out, spitting and sputtering, but no wand came to him.

As he gasped for air, black spots began to fill his vision. He was going to pass out. He couldn't breathe. And then he thought of Ginny. He couldn't bear the idea that she was chatting away with Krum while he was alone for what felt like his last moment. If only his thoughts would reach her. There was so many things that he wanted to say… but it was too late now.

He could already make up the front page of the Daily Prophet.

_Famous Harry Potter was discovered dead in a puddle of mud late in the __afternoon by his three friends. All evidences seem to indicate that the hero who destroyed Lord Voldemort drowned after falling face first into a pond during heavy rainfall. Harry Potter will be mostly remembered for his close relationship to Albus Dumbledore, the late Hogwarts Headmaster… _

"Harry! Where are you?"

At first, he thought that he had imagined her voice coming through the rain. _Ginny_, he thought with a speck of hope.

Something flashed across his face and suddenly he was free. Rolling on his side, he sucked in as much air as his lungs could withstand, which only made him feel worse. If he did not control his breathing, he was going to pass out for certain.

"I'm here now. Take deep breathes." It was Ginny's voice again. He had not imagined it.

The weight had lifted miraculously from his back and neck but his body was now violently shaking all over. He was on his hands and knees now, but he couldn't get up just yet.

"Ginny," he said weakly, trying to get his eyes to focus. "How did you…?"

"Harry, I heard you in my mind. And then I saw… It was like someone placed an image in my head. _Impervious_."

As she said this, the rain that had been falling so heavily stopped right away and started to flicker lightly around them instead. He could still hear it in the trees, but it wasn't falling on his head and glasses anymore.

"Thanks, Ginny. Thanks for coming back."

"We thought you were walking ahead of us because we heard a noise and footsteps, but it was actually Luna under a Disillusionment Charm that we were following. And then, at about the same time we realised that you were missing, I heard your voice in my head."

He could see her clearly now. Her face was drained of color, but the glittering rain was shining around her like an aura.

"I think it was Legilimency. I didn't know you could do that. It was really strong; it nearly knocked me out. What happened?"

"I dunno," he said, pulling himself up with on hand on Ginny's shoulder. "It was the Cloak. It did something funny. I couldn't get it off me."

"Where's your wand?"

"I dropped it."

Ginny did not waste time looking for it. She used a Summoning Charm to gather the phoenix wand and the Cloak, and then together she and Harry made their way to the house as fast as they could manage. They were met on the way by Ron and Hermione who were both in such a state of near-panic that they had forgotten to protect themselves against the rain. A minute later, they were standing in the untidy lobby of Luna's house, dripping water all over the wooden floor.

"I'm sorry about the Cloak, mate," said Ron grumpily.

"Harry, what happened?" Hermione cut in fretfully. "Why didn't you follow us? Why are you so filthy?"

"Hi, Harry."

Luna Lovegood had appeared through the threshold of the living room, a brown cloak wrapped around her and her wand held aloft.

"Are you really Harry?" she asked straightforwardly.

"My Patronus is a stag," Harry replied quickly, imitating Krum.

"Everyone knows that."

She was staring fixedly at his face, her wand in an attack position that he recognised as one he had taught the DA.

Harry looked over at Hermione and Ron for support, but both of them seemed to be waiting for a confirmation that he was really himself. Not that he had done anything worthy of suspicions, but they had probably received the same treatment upon their arrivals. Only Ginny seemed annoyed by Luna's scepticism.

"Can't you tell it's him, Luna? Honestly, this is ridiculous," she said, pressing a reassuring hand on Harry's arm.

In the meantime, Harry was wracking his brain to find something that only he and Luna would know about. And then it hit him.

"We both heard voices from behind the Veil of that weird Stone Arch in the Department of Mysteries."

The smile on Luna's face seemed to indicate that he had given a right answer.

"Yes, I remember that. I knew it was you, in any case, Harry. It's in your eyes. My turn now: my Patronus is a Nargoyle."

"It's a _rabbit_. You shouldn't joke about stuff like that, Luna," Hermione scolded her. "We could decide to jinx you."

This did not seem to affect Luna. Instead, she went on explaining.

"My Patronus is really a Nargoyle, Hermione. Nargoyles are shape-shifters. You ought to know that. Well, I guess you don't know everything."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue, but Ron stopped her gently with a kiss on the cheek.

"It's really Luna, which is all that matters, 'Mione," he said softly. "Harry and I still think you're the brightest witch of your age, even if you don't know about Nargoyles being shape-shifters."

"Ron, you know that it is absolute rubbish," Hermione complained, pushing him away lightly. "You shouldn't encourage her…"

"Hermione, Luna's old enough to believe in whatever she wants, even Nargoyles. You all right, mate? You look awful. What happened to you anyway?"

Harry was trying to siphon the mud off his clothes with his wand, but he was shaking so much that his efforts were useless. Ginny ended up doing most of the cleaning while he was explaining his near-death experience. Even dry, he felt strangely cold and unsteady. He would have given anything for a warm blanket and a Butterbeer. Ron and Hermione were looking at him with the same look of dismay that they had had last year when he had informed them that he had been unable to perform his Patronus. This was not helping him feel better about what had just happened.

"I think the Cloak turned on me," he said, gathering his thoughts. "You didn't cast any spells on it, right? You just threw the Cloak?"

"Yeah, just the Cloak," Ron replied, sharing a worried look with Hermione. "We had agreed behind your back that I ought to put you under it if there was any trouble," he explained with a hint of shame in his voice.

"It was for you own good, Harry," said Hermione rapidly. "But what do you mean by 'turned on you'?"

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. It was as though the Cloak had done it. If it hadn't been for Ginny, he would have died alone out there. This had been the worse part of being stuck under the Invisibility Cloak: the loneliness, not being heard or seen. He wondered how anyone could live like that. Had his ancestor Ignotus Peverell actually _lived_ under the Cloak? Was that even possible, to live like a ghost?

"I think it tried to kill me," he answered after some reflection.

Wanting to avoid the look of horror on Hermione's face and the inevitable questioning that we sure to ensue, he turned to Luna.

"Where's your dad? We're here to talk to him."

Luna was looking at Harry up and down as though she was appraising some mysterious new creature. Her eyes darted from his still trembling hand to his face and then his shirt.

"Durmstrang, that's interesting," she commented hazily. "I'm guessing that you're staying at your godfather's house. My dad is in the lab with Viktor. Follow me. _Lumos_."

She lit up the tip of her wand and Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry did the same.

"Lab?" muttered Ron to Harry's ear. "What does she mean by 'lab'?"

Harry merely shrugged. The thought of the Lovegoods having a laboratory was not surprising, but the prospect of visiting it did nothing to calm his nerves. He remembered that Luna's mother had been killed by one of her own experiment and he wondered vaguely if her father had witnessed the accident. However, this did not seem like a good occasion to ask Luna for details about her mother's death.

She took them through the dark living room which was peculiar for all of its empty bookcases.

"We prefer to keep all of our books downstairs now. They are all quite rare and dangerous," she told them in reply to their inquisitive looks. "The lab is the safest place in the house. Dad rarely leaves it nowadays, which is fine really because the rest of the house is infected with Tumblers."

"Tumblers?" uttered Ron. "I used to be afraid of them when I was a kid. They look like spiders. They live inside the walls and eat rocks. Sometimes they nibble their way out and then they creep under your bed and…"

"Ron, stop it," hissed Hermione warningly. "There are no such things as Tumblers. They exist only in fairy tales."

"Sometimes they are mistaken for spiders," Luna's voice cut in, low and wistful, "but they are quite real, like many things you find in Fairy Tales, like the Deathly Hallows."

"We didn't tell her anything. She figured it out," said Ginny, glancing back at Harry.

"It wasn't hard, really," Luna continued dreamily. "We don't keep secrets, my dad and I."

They had reached the kitchen area and were now facing a heavy wooden door with many steel locks on it. Luna drew a circle with her wand around the locks while muttering an incantation, and then the door swung opened with an ominous screeching sound.

"Watch your steps," she said, taking the lead down the narrow stairway. "Thunder like that makes the Gremlins want to come out of the basement and this is the only exit. They tend to get aggressive when they fail at getting out. Did you know Blast-Ended Skrewts are allergic to Gremlin saliva?"

"Why would you keep Gremlins in your basement?" Ron asked exasperatingly when the steps under his feet creaked loudly.

"Oh, they're great at keeping Boggarts out. Here we are."

They had reached the last step and were now standing on the threshold of a cozy living area complete with rickety chairs, a cluttered writing desk, very old tapestries, and red carpet on the floor. In front of them was a solid steel door that had a doorknocker in the shape of a lion's head, but no lock. Stepping closer to the wall, Luna pulled out an old-looking key from under her cloak and placed it in an almost invisible keyhole in the brick wall. Luna turned the key three times and knocked three times on the brick wall. There was a sound like stones being moved and a section of the wall opened up to a brightly lit room. The steel door, on the other hand, remained closed.

"What's in there?" Ron asked.

"Oh, that's my mum's room. Dad wanted to keep her close to us."

"Her mother's dead body is in there?" Ron whispered when Luna was out of earshot. "I wouldn't want a corpse in my house."

"It's not a corpse," said Ginny quietly. "It's her mum."

She had stopped in front of the steel door and was pressing her hand lightly against it. There was a kind of sadness about her standing there that Harry could not quite understand. Leaving Ron, Hermione and Luna to step first into the laboratory, he remained behind and silently came to Ginny's side.

"I don't think her dad ever gave up the idea of bringing his wife back," Ginny whispered sympathetically with a side glance at Harry. "Luna says that she tried to talk him out of it, but he's still looking for a way."

Harry immediately thought of the Resurrection Stone around Hermione's neck. What would Xeno Lovegood do if he knew she had it?

"He wouldn't…"

"Yes, he would," Ginny replied back before he could finish his sentence. "He would bring her back, just like George would bring back Fred, like mum would bring back dad, like Ron would bring back Hermione. It doesn't mean that it's right, or that they are bad people. It just means that we have our weaknesses."

He knew that she was right, but a part of him did not want to know what any of his friends would do with the Resurrection Stone. Hermione was keeping it safe, but if something happened to Ron, he was not sure if she would be able to resist using it. _He_ was not sure if he could withstand the desire to use it.

"You're not weak," he said softly to Ginny. "And it won't happen. I'm not going to let anything like that happen."

She turned to him and smiled. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She was looking at him in such a way that he felt himself blushing despite of the fact that he was so cold.

"I'm not like you, Harry. When I thought you had died… When I saw Hagrid carrying your body… You were dead for a few minutes, and during that time I came up with about a hundred ways to bring you back."

"Don't," he said a little briskly. "If it happens… Don't bring me back."

Ginny's eyes suddenly became wide with realisation. She seemed rooted on the spot.

"Why are you saying that?" she whispered.

"Well, you know… I don't… It's not natural."

"_You_ came back."

"I wasn't really entirely dead…"

"You were hit by the Killing Curse."

"I had my mother's protection…"

She was touching his face now, his forehead, and his hands.

"You're so cold. You're cold as _death_, Harry."

"It's related to the Deathly Hallows or to the weird mark on my chest. I'll be all right once the Hallows are destroyed."

But she wasn't listening to his rationalization. When she spoke, it was in a low whisper as thought she was voicing out some unbearable truth.

"Harry, are you dying?"


	15. Chapter 15

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter fifteen 

They stood rooted on the spot, facing each other, unable to speak. He wanted to deny it. He wanted to tell her that it wouldn't make sense. After everything that he had been through, after everything that he had done, it wouldn't be fair not to be able to enjoy a few years of happiness. Had he not chosen to come back so that he could destroy Voldemort? It had been his choice, at the train station, with Dumbledore. He didn't believe in destiny or prophecies. He had chosen this fate. He had chosen to live.

Why, then, was he unable to tell Ginny that she was wrong?

"Oi! Try to keep up, you two! We haven't got time for anything else," Ron suddenly cried out through the threshold in the brick wall.

It took Ginny a few seconds before she was able to detach her eyes from Harry's.

"We're coming! Give us a minute!" she called back.

"I'm not dying," Harry whispered when Ron's face disappeared again through the doorway.

"No, you won't, because I won't allow it," Ginny replied stubbornly, taking his hand and leading him towards the entrance to the lab. "We'll just have to figure it out."

"That's why we're here," he said as he stepped into the room.

Harry had never seen such a chaotic room. Next to the Lovegood's laboratory, Ron's bedroom could be called well-kept. As his eyes adjusted to the exceedingly bright light, Harry could see dried leaves and animal cages hanging from every inch of the ceiling. However, all of the cages seemed unusually empty and many looked battered, as though some wild creature had recently broken its way free and wrecked havoc on all of the enclosures. Only the huge fish tank on the left-hand wall looked intact, and Harry was sure that the long green tentacle wrapped around it was Devil's Snare. The three remaining walls were covered with drawings and sketches all marked with symbols that Harry recognised as Runes. Parts of the mosaic were crossed out with black lines, while other parts were circled in shining silver ink. Hermione had wasted no time: she had pulled out _Spellman's Syllabary_ from her beaded bag and was already attempting to decipher the meaning of the Runes. Ron, on the other hand, had barely moved from the doorway. He looked ill at ease and kept glancing nervously at Hermione.

"Bit creepy, isn't it?" he whispered to Harry. "All that light, it's unnatural. Why can't they just use torches like normal people?"

As he was nodding to Ron, Harry's eyes fell on the man who was sitting in the middle of the room, enclosed between two worktables on which were laid out hundreds of pages of research. Xeno Lovegood was motionless; his back turned against the door. His white thin hair was falling over a brown cloak just like the one Luna was wearing.

"What's wrong with him?" said Harry, stepping closer to Luna.

She was hunched beside her dad and was reading to him what looked like an old edition of the Quibbler.

"It's his favourite," she replied, folding the paper caringly and pressing it gently against her heart. "It's the first _Quibbler_ that he and Mum printed together. He likes it when I read it. See, his eyes changed."

Harry looked down at the face, but saw no change at all. Xeno Lovegood's eyes were strangely glazed and unfocused. He did not seem to be conscious of anything around him and he did not stir when Luna squeezed his hand.

"He vas like that ven I found him," Viktor said, answering Harry's initial inquiry. "It looks like a Confundus Charm gone bad, or – he lowered his voice so that Luna wouldn't hear – the Cruciatus Curse. It's a possibility."

The image of Neville's parents burst into Harry's mind. Sirius had said their fate had been worse than death.

"_What_?" Ron asked, appalled. "_Why_? Not because of –"

"Me?" Harry replied mechanically.

"_Us_," Hermione instantly corrected him. "But I rather think he was on to something. Just give me a moment to translate all this," she said, waving her hand at the scribbling on the wall.

Not able to look into Mr Lovegood's face anymore, Harry's eyes fell on Ginny instead. She was standing next to Krum with her arms folded and they were talking in hushed voices. Harry could not help but notice a certain familiarity between them. He could not recall ever introducing Viktor to Ginny. Perhaps it had happened at Bill and Fleur's wedding. Then again, they may have become acquainted on another occasion during the course of last year. Harry kept forgetting that other things were happening while he was on the run looking for Horcruxes. And there was that password that Ginny kept using: "a small rock holds back a great wave". What was that all about?

"Your house vas deserted, except for him," Krum was saying to Ginny in a low voice. "He vas standing in the garden and he didn't even seen to know I vas there. I knew the Aurors vould arrive soon so I took him vit me and ve came here. It vas vat ve agreed, in case of trouble, not to trust the Ministry, just the DA. And I knew you vould show up soon."

"When did _he_ sign up for the DA?" Ron asked indignantly.

But Ginny ignored her brother.

"Dementors attacked us, so we fled to Harry's house. Why were you coming to see me in the first place?"

Was it just Harry's imagination or was Viktor Krum actually _blushing_?

"I vanted to make sure you vere all right, you know, after reading the _Daily Prophet_."

"What's in the _Prophet_?"

Krum did not reply. Instead, he pulled out a roughly folded newspaper from under his coat and handed it to Ginny. Her eyes darted quickly across the page as she read the content.

"I can't believe it! It's outrageous!" Ginny burst out all-of-a-sudden.

"I knew you vouldn't like it."

"What's wrong?" said Harry, leaving Luna and her father and taking a few steps closer to Ginny and Krum.

Ron was standing behind Ginny to read over her shoulder and Hermione was coming closer as well, _Spellman's Syllabary_ tucked under her arm.

"What's going on?"

"Listen to this," Ginny said tensely, "_Today, at approximately two o'clock in the morning, the much dreaded _Morte Incantato_ Charm was reported to have been seen over the house of Mr Arthur Weasley, recently appointed Head of Magical Cooperation Department. The infamous symbol was witnessed by a resident of the area, Mr Amos Diggory, age 49, who immediately reported the illegal enchantment to the Aurors' Office. No statement has been made yet to give credit to Mr Diggory's declaration, but a full investigation is under way as the occupants of the house are nowhere to be found. The banned crest, three spirals linked together at the middle, known blazon of the Triskelions, has been outlawed since 1899 following the insurrection of… _blah blah blah. The rest is historical stuff. There's a bit about you, Harry.

"_It is a noteworthy fact that the Weasley's house, more commonly known as 'The Burrow', has been the unofficial residence of Harry Potter for the past seven years. To one of Potter's teachers, the appearance of the Triskelions' mark over the roof of that particular home cannot be a coincidence. "Of course, Potter would know about the _Morte Incantato_ Charm because of its similarity to the Dark Mark used by Death Eaters, but also because of its link to the Triskelions and their quest," says Professor Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Apart from being Potter's sixth year Potion Master, Mr Slughorn admits that he played a special part in the tutoring and training of the hero who destroyed the Dark Lord. "It's a known fact that Potter is gifted for the Dark Arts. He's a Parselmouth, for instance. He experienced the Unforgivable Curses at a very young age, which I suspect is partly responsible for his tendency to consider the Dark Arts as an easy way out. The Wizarding Community may be forced to face the fact that Potter has joined the Triskelions. If so, then the rumours concerning Potter's immortality may very well be true, but at what cost? I did try to talk some sense into him, even recently, but I am beginning to think that I was too late, as the appearance of the _Morte Incantato_ Charm may be proving. You see, I wasn't the only one to take interest in his magical education." _

"_Mr Slughorn did not offer any comment on the nature of the relationship between Albus Dumbledore, the late Hogwarts Headmaster, and Harry Potter whom many have called the Chosen One, but it is clear that further investigation will be needed to determine whether or not the hero may turn out to be a menace for the Wizarding Community."_

Ginny's voice seemed to echo forever in Harry's ears as she finished her reading. He felt anger gripping at his throat. Strangely enough, all that he could think about was Dolores Umbridge, how he had hated her thoroughly, how he had loathed her kittens, the color of her office, and the sound of her sniggering laughter. He had not thought it possible, but there was now someone that he hated more than Umbridge.

"The spiteful man! It's like he's taking credit for everything that you've done and putting you down at the same time," Ginny cried out, thrusting the _Daily Prophet_ back in Krum's hands.

Harry caught a glimpse of the front page. The picture of him looked as though it had been taken at the funeral. His eyes had dark circles under them. Over his head, the three spirals had been drawn, and the title printed in large letters was taking up the remaining space.

_Harry Potter; Hero or Menace?_

_Read the exclusive interview with H. Slughorn on page five._

"His name on the front page," said Ron, catching Harry's gaze, "that ought to make him happy. What are Triskelions?"

Harry turned to Hermione, expecting her to answer right away, but she looked at a complete loss. It was Viktor Krum who spoke instead.

"It is how we call the members of a secret society very well-known in my country," Krum explained. "The most famous Triskelion was Gellert Grindelvald."

"But Grindelwald's mark isn't the spiral-thing, the _Morte Incantato_ Charm, it's the eye-like triangle, the symbol of the Deathly Hallows," Harry said rapidly, not quite sure if he was making sense.

His insides were still boiling with anger directed at Slughorn, but he knew that he had to control it, to put it out of his head. But all of those bottled-up emotions, combined with the intense cold now sweeping throughout his body, made it difficult for him to concentrate.

"The Triskelions have been around for a long time, even before Grindelvald," Krum went on. "Nobody knows who they are, just that they exist. But ven Grindelvald started to use the _Morte Incantato_ Charm as a signature spell, it became obvious that he had joined them. Some say he even became their leader, but there vas never any real proof. Then Dumbledore sent Grindelvald to the prison of Nurmengard, and that spell vas banned."

"I read something about that," said Hermione thoughtfully. "They couldn't send Grindelwald to Azkaban, but there was no explanation why."

She had hoisted herself up on one of the worktables and was now sitting on a pile of Xeno Lovegood's research notes, _Spellman's Syllabary_ still clutched in her arms. Harry went to sit besides her, but he took care to shift some of the paper out of the way first. He would have preferred to stand next to Ginny, but there was little room between her and Viktor.

"It vas Dumbledore who insisted upon sending Grindelvald to that place, and he had good reasons," said Krum. "It vouldn't have been safe to keep Grindelvald at the same place as the Archvay of the Dead."

"What's that?" Ron cut in.

The reply came from Luna Lovegood's dreamy voice.

"The Archway of the Dead. The Gate of Hades, more precisely. You know about it, of course, Harry. According to myth, it should be in Azkaban, but it's not there anymore. Dumbledore must have convinced the Ministry to move it."

"The Gate of Hades, are you sure? We're talking about the doorway to the underworld," asked Hermione in a low voice as though she was talking about something dark and forbidden. Harry was even surprised not to hear a hint of sarcasm in her tone.

"Hold on," he said, glancing at Luna. "You mean that Stone Arch in the Department of Mysteries? It used to be in Azkaban?"

"If you believe that sort of things," said Ron smartly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"It has nothing to do with believing," Krum put in calmly. "The Archway vas in Azkaban. Dumbledore did not vant Grindelvald anyvhere near it, so he did everything he could to send him to Nurmengard instead. The only problem vas that the Dementors are attached to Azkaban and they cannot go to Nurmengard, therefore the Dementors' Kiss could never be performed on Grindelvald. That made a lot of people angry."

"I can understand why," Harry said between gritted teeth.

The comment had come out of mouth almost unexpectedly, and he regretted saying it the second after. It was true that Dumbledore and Grindelwald had been close friends, but the thought that Dumbledore had on purpose tried to spare Grindelwald from justice was absurd. If Dumbledore had thought that Azkaban was not an appropriate place to hold Grindelwald, then he must have had good reasons. Dumbledore wouldn't have protected his friend from the Dementors' Kiss. Grindelwald had _killed_ people. Then again, Harry had been wrong about Dumbledore before.

"Why couldn't the Ministry order the Dementors to perform the Kiss?" said Ginny.

"Nothing can get in or out of Nurmengard," Krum replied, a little smugly, "not even Dementors. They vould have had to move Grindelvald to Azkaban to perform the Kiss, and he vould have escaped during the transfer."

"Nurmengard is worst than Azkaban, Harry," Hermione offered, squeezing Harry's right hand while still holding the book against her chest. "Dumbledore wasn't protecting Grindelwald. Nurmengard has been called 'The Tomb' because no one comes out of there alive."

"Well, maybe he should have brought Grindelwald to Azkaban in the first place," Harry retorted, "then there would have been no need for a transfer."

He was surprised to hear anger in his own voice, but he could not ignore the fact that it had been Dumbledore's choice at that moment to keep Grindelwald away from the Dementors' Kiss.

"He couldn't bring him to Azkaban because of the Archway, Harry," said Luna softly.

She was stroking her father's hair in a motherly way and Harry suddenly felt ashamed. His own fear and doubt were keeping him from his real goal. His friends were in danger, the Weasleys had been attacked, and now Luna's father had been cursed. He had to focus his attention on the tasks ahead: destroy the Hallows, stop SlughornAnd hopefully, after that was done, the mark on his chest would disappear and he would feel warm again. He could not waste time and energy on Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

Harry took a deep breath, hoping that his frustration would stream out of him and that his steadiness would return.

"Are you all right, Harry?" said Krum, staring at him. "You look…"

"I know. I look awful. What's that Archway-thing anyway? I thought nobody knew what it was."

"Viktor knew," Ginny replied straight away. "He told us about it last year. It's like Luna said. It's that Stone Arch that we saw in the Department of Mysteries, the one Sirius fell into. It's called the Archway of the Dead, and it belongs to Azkaban."

"But what does it _do_?" said Harry, glancing at Ginny, a little annoyed. "Why was Dumbledore trying to do by keeping Grindelwald away from it?"

What he really wanted to know was the circumstances in which Ginny and Viktor Krum had discussed the matter, but, again, he had to remind himself to focus on the topic.

"Azkaban was built around it," said Luna in her usual dreamy voice. "It's the Dementors' 'Home Sweet Home'."

"I doubt that Sirius thinks it's 'Home Sweet Home'," Ron said indignantly, waving his finger at her. "This isn't going anywhere. What do we care about Grindelwald? He deserved what he got. Are we going to spend the whole day here talking about some stupid Gate of What's His Name? What about the rest of it? What about the Triskelions? I want to know about them."

"The Gate is important, Ron," Ginny pointed out irritably.

"It's rubbish. It's a stupid legend…"

"A legend like the Chamber of Secrets? Or like the Deathly Hallows?" Ginny replied angrily.

"Do you understand any of this, Harry? Because I sure don't!" burst out Ron even more forcefully than Ginny's reply. "I'm completely at a loss. These people are your friends. They should be helping you. We're wasting time!"

"Ron, I think we should listen to…" Hermione began to say in a feeble voice.

"No! We're going in circles. We can't afford to chat about archways and secret societies. None of it is helping Harry. Don't you understand? He's going to –"

Ron's voice broke and he could not finish his sentence. Silence fell on them so that only the sound of rustling water in the fish tank could be heard. Ron and Hermione were staring intensely at each other in such a way that Harry felt strangely awkward, as though he had stumbled upon them while they were kissing. He turned to Ginny, expecting to see the same stubborn look on her face, but she had turned away from him so that he could not make out her expression.

So they thought, like Ginny did, that he was going to die. And what if he was? He was not really afraid to die. He had already accepted death as his fate once so that he could destroy Voldemort, and he knew that he would do it again, if it came to that, to save his friends. Whatever was happening to him, whatever dark power had taken hold, he would not let Ron, or Hermione, or Ginny, or anyone else die so that he could live on. That option was just unacceptable.

"The _Morte Incantato_ Charm, it vas you?" Krum uttered after a moment. "You used it to repel the Dementors. They can't stand it. It's too dark even for them. They vill come back and take your soul. You've doomed yourself, Harry Potter."

"Don't say that!" Ginny snapped at Viktor with such force that he seemed to take a step back.

"Viktor, here's our problem," said Hermione, calling them all back to order. "It's not just the spell, it's the Deathly Hallows; they have taken hold of Harry. We were hoping that Mr Lovegood would put us on the right path since he's the one who told us about the Deathly Hallows in the first place, but he can't help us anymore. Is there anything you can tell us, anything significant, relating the Deathly Hallows to the Triskelions? There's a link, the mark is the proof of that, and we need to find out what that tie is."

Viktor Krum kept was now staring from Harry, to Ron, and to Hermione with a mixture of curiosity and wonder.

"It's true, then? You're a Master of Death, Keeper of the Deathly Hallows. You can valk through the Gate, like Villiam Peverell."

"William _Peverell_?" said Harry eagerly, feeling a little hopeful for the first time during the course of their conversation.

Ron and Hermione were now glancing in his direction. They, too, had recognised the surname.

"He's the founder of Azkaban," answered Krum, "and the last known Master of Death."

"Tell us the whole story, then, Viktor," said Ginny hastily. "But don't waste too much time on the details."

"Oh, daddy and I like a good story," said Luna musingly, sitting on the floor with her legs crossed and leaning her head on her father's lap. "Mum was very found of all those legends about the Lord of the Underworld. I'm sure she's listening."

Beside him, Harry saw Hermione pull _Spellman's Syllabary_ closer to her chest and press her chin against it while all the time looking at Luna. A single tear had formed on the corner of her left eye.

"Go ahead, Viktor," she said, brushing the tear hastily with the back of her hand. "We're listening."


	16. Chapter 16

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter sixteen 

"It vas in a time of turmoil. The Vizarding Schools had just been created. In those times, non-magic Kings sought alliances vit vizards to increase their vealth and pover. Some vizards even took part in vars, such as Villiam Peverell who vas a Knight.

"The King whom Peverell served vas obsessed vit the legend of _Destina Nobilis_, or the Deathly Hallows, three magical objects offered to three brothers as a gift from the hands of Death, also known as Hades, Lord of the Underworld. According to the tale, the objects hold great individual pover, but no one knew vat vould happen if the Hallows vere to be united under a single bearer. The King had this theory that even greater pover vould emerge and that the bearer vould become immortal. So, the King commissioned the Knight Peverell to go on a search and bring him back all three objects.

"Villiam Peverell travelled for many years and during that time there vere many battles. The King grew old and lost all of his sons in meaningless fights. On his deathbed, he summoned Peverell back. They spoke in private for a long time, and then the King died. Many believe that it vas at that moment that the King revealed to Peverell that he vas in possession of at least one or two of the sacred objects. As for the Knight, he became known as Villiam 'The Elder' Peverell, so ve can assume that he had at least the Elder Vand."

"William Peverell had the Cloak too," Harry cut in, sitting on the edge of the table. "He must have been Ignotus' great-grandson or something."

Hermione gave a quick nod and Viktor continued.

"After that, Peverell vent to Durmstrang and taught Duelling for a few years. He vas also very involved in the first Vizard Laws. Too many innocent had died and it vas becoming imperative to render some curses illegal, like the Killing Curse. But the real problem vasn't making Laws, it vas applying punishment."

"Muggle prisons weren't quite up to the challenge," Hermione commented.

"That's correct," said Viktor and Hermione smiled as though she had just given a right answer in History of Magic. "Peverell vas very famous by then and so the Chief Varlock charged him vit the task of finding the location for the first vizard prison.

"So Peverell took a ship and vent to sea vit a Muggle crew. He vas gone for many months. And then, one night, there vas a deadly storm. Magic vas of no use and Peverell lost the ship's entire crew and found himself alone on a tiny island. It vas barely a spit of rocks on vich there vas nothing but a single arch made of stone. And so, having nothing left to loose, Peverell valked through the Archvay of the Dead. This gave birth to the idea that the Deathly Hallows hold some kind of protection against Death. He couldn't have valked through the Gate and come back to tell the tale othervise. No one ever returns from the Undervorld.

"The rest belongs to legend, really. Peverell made a deal vit Hades, the Lord of the Undervorld, asking for his consent to build the prison on the island. The Dark Lord agreed and even offered the Dementors to guard the prison, but under the condition that the he vould collect the souls of those who commit a capital offence through the Dementors' Kiss.

"So Azkaban Prison vas built around the Stone Arch and no one vas allowed to valk through the Gate, except Villiam Peverell. Many tried, of course, but ven Peverell vas asked to bring those people back, he said that he couldn't bring back the dead. At one point, there vas a movement of protest and they tried to destroy the Gate, but Peverell told them that vithout the Gate, they vould loose the Dementors as vell. Therefore, the Gate remained.

"Many years passed, but Peverell did not seem to age. If he vas sick or hurt, he vould step into the Gate and come back good as new moments later. In Azkaban, there vere rumours that he must have bargained vit Hades to extend his life indefinitely. It became a tale among the prisoners, an account kept secret, and the _Destina Nobilis_ Society vas created. Its members, the Triskelions, passed on the knowledge. And eventually the story escaped the walls of Azkaban."

"The _Destina Nobilis_ Society?" said Harry, incredulous, as words were swirling through his brain, making more and more sense.

"That is the name given by the Triskelions to the 'Master of Death', the Keeper of the Deathly Hallows, the only one who can valk through the Gate," Krum confirmed. "In later years, the Triskelions wrote another version of the Tale of the Three Brothers, one vit more references to Hades and to the idea that the objects hold a greater pover ven united."

"The text in my Ancient Runes book!" squealed Hermione, pinching Harry's arm in her excitement. "It must be the Triskelions' version. It talks about the Fates, and the Underworld, and the ability to see the future."

Viktor nodded, half-smiling at Hermione's enthusiasm.

"The Triskelions believe that once you've valked through the Gate, the Lord of the Undervorld vill grant you anything you vant, if you know how to bargain. You can ask to bring back someone you lost, or ask for immortality, or look into your future, anything you vant."

There was a short moment of silence when everyone in the room seemed to consider that idea. Harry saw that Hermione had resumed her staring at Luna and her dad, _Spellman's Syllabary_ presed against her chest. Maybe she was thinking about her parents, or about all of the people who had died recently. She seemed unusually sad.

"What happened to William Peverell, in the end?" Ginny asked in a low voice.

"He vas killed by a curse. Shot in the back. The killer vas never discovered and the vand disappeared as vell."

"Well, that was a good story," said Ron happily, stepping up closer to Hermione.

"And he tells it so well," said Luna. She was staring at Viktor Krum dreamily with her head still on her father's lap.

Ron signed at Luna's comment, and then he went on quite enthusiastically: "Did everyone get that part about the Deathly Hallows being some kind of protection against death?"

"There's no proof of that," said Hermione perceptibly and blinking as though she was trying to get rid of an unpleasant thought. "What we know for sure is that Peverell walked through the Gate and didn't die in the process."

"It all fits, though," Harry replied.

The events of the last few days now seemed to make more sense. If it was a widely spread rumour that he was immortal, then it was possible to think that someone also thought that he was a Master of Death in possession of the Deathly Hallows. The problem was to find out who that person was. How many Triskelions were out there right now? A few? A dozen? A hundred?

"Daddy and I think that Mr Slughorn is a Triskelion."

The affirmation had come from Luna. She had moved to one of the table and was searching lazily through rolls of parchments.

"That's… That's actually not a bad assertion, Luna!" Hermione cried out with a tone of surprise.

"Yes, I'm a lot smarter than people tend to think. Daddy, we really need to organise your workspace. _Accio_ Triskelions' list," she said, waving her wand at the pile of paper.

Suddenly, a long yellow sheet zoomed across the room and she caught it gracefully in midair. She quickly ran her finger through it and declared with a matter-of-fact tone: "There he is: Horace Slughorn, lost his fiancé, she was killed accidentally by Grindelwald during a dual. I'm sorry, Harry. I should have told you that about Slughorn but sometimes it's hard to keep up with everything that Dad knows. Oh! Professor Dumbledore is on the list as well. He lost his mother and sister early in his life. Daddy, I think we can cross out Dumbledore's name. He died, if you remember."

"That would make sense," said Harry, pondering with the idea, his brain working at top speed.

"That Dumbledore was a Triskelion?" Ron offered distractedly.

"No, Slughorn!" said Ginny crossly. "Try to keep up, Ron. Of course, I knew that he was up to something last year. He kept asking about you, Harry, but always small details like if Dumbledore had ever given you a Christmas present. He must have thought that you were gathering the Deathly Hallows, Harry."

"But Slughorn knew that I wasn't," Harry replied pensively, remembering how he had obtained Slughorn's memory about a young man named Tom Riddle who had a question about Horcruxes.

Still, it made sense that Slughorn would be a Triskelion. Perhaps he had only made the connection between Harry and the Deathly Hallows recently. If he had attacked Harry in the Dark Forest, then it would explain why he was still around to cure his shoulder afterwards. After all, there was no need for Harry to die at that time. But if the centaur who had shot the arrow was actually Slughorn, who, then, was the creature that had attacked him in the clearing?

"You weren't?"

It took Harry a while to realise that it was Ginny speaking. His mind was still buzzing with theories, pieces of information that he was trying to piece together.

"What?"

"You weren't looking for the Deathly Hallows. We've been talking about that for an hour, and you say you _weren't_ looking for them. What _were_ you doing then?"

She sounded very aggravated, but Harry still did not feel that the timing was good to disclose that he had actually been aiming to destroy Horcruxes. It would also mean revealing that he had himself been one, and he wasn't sure that he wanted Luna Lovegood and her father, or Viktor Krum whom he knew so little, to know that fact. He felt so ashamed every time he thought about it. There had been something evil inside him, something that wasn't his own. He had carried it around all his life, to Hogwarts, to The Burrow, to Grimmauld Place. It had been present when he had kissed Cho and when he had kissed Ginny. He couldn't tell her now. _Not like that_, he thought bitterly.

"It's more complicated than that, Ginny. The Hallows were just a part of what it took to destroy Voldemort," Hermione intervened rapidly with a side glance at Harry.

"I know… I… I didn't mean like that," Ginny said shyly, looking away.

"It's OK. Luna, let me see that list."

Harry heard the thud of Hermione's feet on the floor as she dropped from her sitting position to stand besides Luna. After that, however, the rustling of paper became the sound of running feet and all of the other noises died in his ears as though he had just put on a pair of thick earmuffs. He recognised the footsteps at once because they were his. The vision was so clear, so familiar. The staircases were right in front of him. He was climbing up to the Gryffindor Common Room. He could see the portrait of the Fat Lady. And then he caught his reflection on one of the windows. He was older and very close to being exactly like his father on the picture of the original Order of the Phoenix. His hair was longer, though, and his eyes pale and tired. His glasses were slightly different. The distress on his face was almost painful to see. The dread that he was feeling was unbearable. He could feel his heart pounding, his lungs stinging, and his hands shaking. It was the worse thing imaginable. Something horrible had happened; he knew it inside his heart. He was so terrified to find out what, but he had to face it, he had to get into that Common Room. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he could stop it from happening. _What's the password?_ He thought despairingly. _What's the _bloody_ password? I need to get in. I need to see him. Please, not him. Please, don't take him. I'm not asking for anything else, just don't take him. Don't take my son._


	17. Chapter 17

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter seventeen 

"Harry!"

He cold shiver ran throughout his body. He tried to open his eyes, but his nerves were still paralysed by the dreadful vision he had just experienced. He didn't even know if he could move at all. He felt sick and his chest was hurting. Someone was holding both of his hands tightly.

"_Ginny_?" he managed to breathe out.

"Harry, stay with me. Please, try to stay with me."

Her voice was strained, pleading, like his had been seconds before. When he opened his eyes, she was staring right at him, shrouded in the bright light of the Lovegood's lab. He wanted to hug her, to kiss her, to take comfort in her, but he just felt so weak and cold. All he could do was squeeze her hands in acknowledgement.

"He's going to pass out," said Ron in a piercing voice.

"No, he's coming around," said Ginny, glancing sideways at the others.

She held his hands for a while and nobody spoke. He could hear his own shallow breathing now. It felt as though someone had poured icy water into his lungs. His chest was hurting too and he knew that if he looked at it he would see the outline of the three spirals tattooed unto his skin, black and ominous.

"It's over," he said weakly between two intakes of air. "It was only a passing thing. I'll be OK in a few minutes."

"You stopped breathing, mate, so stop saying you're fine, all right? We're not stupid," Ron retorted, a little annoyed.

He straightened his back, trying to regain his balance and his senses. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were gathered close around him while Viktor and Luna were standing a few steps away looking appalled.

"What did you see?" whispered Hermione.

"I didn't…"

"I heard you. You said – _stuff_," Ginny uttered almost inaudibly.

It was no use pretending. By the look of concern on their faces, he was probably looking as terrible as he was feeling. Had he pleaded out loud? Had he been screaming? Had anyone heard him say 'Don't take my son'?

"I saw myself, but I was older," he voiced out. It was as though he was telling them about a very private dream. "Something had happened. I don't know what, but it was something horrible. Someone was dead, I think, or in danger of dying."

He couldn't tell them that, in the vision, the person in danger was his son. It was too weird, and absolutely ridiculous. He had no children; he was way too young. The thought of having some one day had not even crossed his mind yet. Nevertheless, he had felt it clearly: his son was the person he was running to, whether it made sense or not_. I'm going to loose a child_, he thought dreadfully.

Hermione and Ron were staring into each other's eyes, both looking pale and troubled.

"We're not going to loose you, mate," said Ron defiantly, putting a firm hand on Harry's shoulder. "We lost you once. I'm not letting anything like that happen again."

"It wasn't me. It was… someone else. What are you talking about?"

"During the battle when we couldn't find you," Hermione uttered tearfully. "We thought you'd died, Harry. We thought you'd sacrificed yourself so that we could finish Voldemort. It was the worse I've ever felt."

Ron nodded, and then he pulled Hermione close to him and kissed her head.

Harry found nothing to reply. It had been partly a true sacrifice. He had faced Voldemort freely, knowing that he would die. And for a moment, he had been suspended between life and death. However, to Ron and Hermione, he had been truly dead, a corpse in Hagrid's arms. He had never stopped to think about how horrible it must have been for them. And now his apparent weakened condition was a reminder that he was not, despite the rumours, immortal.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this, honestly," he began to say sheepishly, "but the vision wasn't about me dying."

Ginny seemed to flinch as he said this, but she remained quiet, almost distant.

"Harry, what if… what if you only came back to finish Voldemort? What if you're not supposed to…? I mean, I know you weren't really entirely dead, but you were hit by the Killing Curse…"

Hermione's voice broke and she buried her face on Ron's chest and began to sob quietly. Ron's eyes met Harry's and he could see that his friend was silently thinking what Hermione had voiced out with such difficulty: somehow, regardless of everything he had done, he wasn't meant to survive. But how could it be true? Was it because he had been a Horcrux? There had never been an occurrence like this in the whole history of Wizard-kind, so how was he supposed to know about such things?

"I'm not going to die," he said, weighing every word.

He wanted to sound convincing, but Ginny had just taken his hand and he didn't feel so confident anymore. He wanted to live, but he knew that he face death again for her in an instant if he had too.

"Anyway," said Ginny staring at him with searching eyes, "you said that the vision wasn't about you dying. Who was dying then?"

"Do we care?" snapped Ron. "I mean, you're not supposed to have visions anymore, not with Voldemort gone. You keep saying he's gone. How do you explain this, then? I say it's not even a vision; it's just your brain acting up, that's all. It's understandable after everything you've been through."

"Ron, honestly, you'd better shut up, or I'll jinx you, I swear," Ginny retorted sharply.

"I think it might be something else acting up besides my brain," said Harry directly to Ron. "It's the Hallows. Somehow, they're doing this."

He saw Ron glance nervously at his rucksack on the floor at his feet; Hermione's chin jerked upwards as she reached for the heart-shaped locket hanging at her neck. Their sudden uneasiness could only mean one thing: they were feeling it too.

"There vas a rumour about Peverell," Viktor suddenly cut in. "People used to say that he could see into the future."

"If he did," Ron answered back, wheeling around to face Krum, "then he would have seen his death coming and would have avoided it, don't you think so?"

"Maybe Hades punished him," Luna said distractedly. She was standing in front of her father and twisting his white hair between her fingers. "He shouldn't have made a bargain with Death. Everyone dies eventually. Anything else is just unnatural."

"_Tell that to Fred_," Ron growled in a low voice, but Hermione sealed his lips with a kiss and that stopped him from scolding at Luna any further.

Undisturbed, Luna merely shrugged, looking dreamily at the wall next to her and the numerous Runes that were scribbled on it.

Meanwhile, Harry had wrapped his arms delicately around Ginny's shoulders, hoping that her warmth would bring him some comfort. If he could just sit still for one minute, maybe the feeling of dread that had settled inside his chest would lessen. The Hallows had been so important just a few days ago, but now he wished he had never heard of them. Then he wouldn't have had this vision.

"Harry, do you really think you saw into the future?" Ginny uttered so that only he could hear. "You said – you said something about your s…"

"MAKE NO BARGAIN!" a hoarse voice suddenly cried out, making all of them jump.

It was Xeno Lovegood. They all gathered around his chair in haste, Luna kneeling in front of her father. He had not moved, but his eyes were different. His gaze was moving fast, going from one person to the other. He seemed to be struggling with some inner will. And then his stare fell on Harry.

"MAKE NO BARGAIN! ONLY ONE MASTER OF DEATH! ONLY ONE! MAKE NO BARGAIN! DESTROY IT!"

"He's all right! I knew he would make it back!"

"It's either that, or he's cracked for good," Ron whispered to Harry's ear.

But Harry ignored Ron's comment and knelt beside Luna.

"Mr Lovegood, what do you mean? Are you talking about William Peverell?"

"_Daddy_?"

But Xeno Lovegood's eyes had turned glassy and unfocused and it didn't seem like he was going to say more.

"I think he meant to warn you, Harry," whispered Luna after a moment of silence. A single tear had fallen on her cheek. "Don't worry about dad. He's strong. He'll make it. You have to stop Slughorn from getting through the Gate. He wants to bring his fiancé back from the dead, and that's just not right. But be careful. He's ready to do anything, because that's what people do when they loose someone."

It took Harry a few seconds to realise what she was saying. This was it, then. It was time to move on and leave Luna and her dad behind so that he could put an end to another villain. He wanted to say something comforting, but all that came to his mind once more was 'I'm sorry'. Luckily, this time, Hermione spoke first.

"Luna, your dad, he was trying to…"

"_What the bloody hell is that_?" Ron shrieked in a high-pitched voice.

He grabbed Harry's shoulder, which made Harry wince in pain because it was the arm where he had been shot. However, Ron did not seem to notice and pulled harder, forcing Harry to turn around. He was pointing at the wall with the fish tank with a trembling finger. His face had turned pearly white.

"What's wrong? What did you see?" asked Harry hastily, struggling to his feet.

"A face, in the water," Ron mumbled, still clinging to Harry's shoulder.

"It's just your imagination, Veasley," said Krum.

"No, it isn't!"

"I think I saw it too," Ginny joined in.

She had stepped away from the group and was carefully advancing towards the large fish tank. As she got closer to it, Harry realised just how big it was. It was a little higher than Ginny's head and possibly two arm's lengths wide. The water inside it was murky and there seem to be no fishes, only plants like the ones in which Harry had swum in the Black Lake during the Second Task of the Triwizard Tournament. Instinctively, his hand reached out for the Elder Wand.

Then he saw it. Two white eyes were looking out through the glass, and there was a face like a skull but green, with yellowish hair surrounding the distorted features.

"I see it too, Ron!"

"Ve can all see it."

"There's something alive in there."

"I don't think it's in the water. It looks like it's behind it," said Ginny, her eyes fixed on the glass. She was now very close to the tank.

There was a thud besides Harry. Hermione had dropped _Spellman's Syllabary_ to the floor. She was now clutching at her necklace with a panicked expression.

"Oh, no! Oh, no, no, no. Harry, I think I…"

BANG!

Harry wheeled around fast. Something heavy had collided with the fish tank now. The water was swirling and splashing. Drops of it fell on Ginny's hair and she took a step back.

"It's trying to get through!"

"Ginny, get away from it!" Harry cried out.

As he looked down at the Elder Wand, ready to cast a spell at any moment, he saw a pale thin line of green smoke flowing out of it; the color was disturbingly familiar. He couldn't risk it. Whatever the Wand had in mind to do, any spell cast from such a distance could hit Ginny. He had no control over it.

As he was putting away the Wand with a moment's hesitation, there was another loud bang.

Pushing Ron out of his path, he pulled out his phoenix wand and ran towards Ginny as quickly as he could. There was another loud beating sound and this time the fish tank seemed to stumble slightly. More water fell to the floor.

"Come on!" Harry yelled, grabbing Ginny's shoulder.

But Ginny would not stir. Her eyes were fixed on the skull-like face behind the glass. Harry could not look. It was too familiar. It was too much like the faces in had seen in the dark water of Riddle's cave with Dumbledore. And he could remember vividly how those creatures had tried to kill him.

"Come on! We've got to get away from it!"

"Wait, Harry, it's her! What if she's really awaking? She's coming back!"

Harry glanced behind his shoulder, hoping that Luna hadn't heard. She looked terrified, and she had taken a few stumbling steps forward.

"There used to be a door to the other room right there, but Dad sealed it when we brought Mum down here. He wouldn't have…"

There was another strike and the glass creaked menacingly. Harry saw a hand, and the other, both greyish and appalling, groping upwards. Then he caught a glance of the whole body. He had seen a picture of Luna's mother before, but this was not what she had looked like. The skin was partly blackened. She was moving in an unnatural manner, gripping and twisting in a sinister way. Her fingers had grabbed hold of the top of the tank and she was banging her feet against the glass now. Ginny and the others were motionless, completely mesmerised.

"Mum!" Luna suddenly squealed.

She started forward towards the tank. Harry couldn't let her see the creature that was behind it. He ran to meet her and they collided heavily into each other. He wanted to stop her, to hold her back, to protect her against the truth, but she was struggling madly against his grip.

"Luna, no! It's not her! It's not your mum!" he cried out.

It did not stop her from thrashing frantically at Harry's every limb.

"Let's just get out of here!" Ron yelled.

But as he said this, there was a final bang and the fish tank broke apart like a shattered window. Water burst out forcefully, splashing on the walls and empty animal cages first, and then cascading on the floor over the broken edge of the tank.

And through the explosive noise that it made, Harry heard Ginny scream.

"GINNY!"

She had curled up on the floor, her face covered with both of her arms. Harry pushed Luna hard against the wall to free himself from her grip and ran to Ginny's side as fast as he could on the wet and slippery floor. When he reached her, he felt her head and it was sticky with blood, but at least she was conscious.

"Harry, vatch out! _Stupefy_!" bellowed Krum.

Harry turned around in time to see the corpse of Mrs Lovegood fly backwards, hit by the Stunning Spell back through the darkness of the hole in the stone wall where the fish tank had been.

"Don't – hurt – my – mummy!" Luna howled, lurching herself at Krum and knocking his wand out of his hand.

But Krum was large and Luna was skinny and small. She was no match for him physically. He did not even budge when she started to punch him.

There was no time to loose. The dead corpse of Mrs Lovegood would be back shortly. Harry bent low to try and scoop up Ginny in his arms, but she was stirring now.

"Harry, I'm OK," she said weakly. "Help me up."

"Vat now?" said Krum who was holding Luna aloft with one hand, while keeping a firm grip on her with the other.

"Let go of me!" she was yelling hysterically. "You hurt my mummy!"

Still bent down next to Ginny, Harry cast a circular look at the room. Mr Lovegood had fallen off his chair and he was writhing on the floor as though he had just been hit with the Cruciatus Curse. Hermione was kneeling low besides him, trying to calm him down, and Ron was holding up a large bluish shield in front of them. His gaze was fixed on his sister. Then something glittering at Hermione's neck caught Harry's eyes: the necklace with the Resurrection Stone.

"Get everyone out," he said imperatively. "Ron, get everyone out!"

"Me? What about you?"

"Quick! Don't argue!"

Without another word, Ron lowered his wand and bent down next to Hermione to help her deal with the agitated Mr Lovegood. Harry had gotten up and he was pulling Ginny to her feet. Thick red blood was trickling down her forehead, and her arms were cut in many places. She looked slightly stunned, so he wheeled her compellingly in front of him and towards the exit.

"What about Luna's mum?" she said in a low voice.

"I'll take care of it."

When he got closer to the doorway, he released Ginny's arm. She swayed a little and had to grab Viktor Krum's shirt to remain standing. Ron had hoisted a now snoring Xeno Lovegood on his shoulder and he was pointing his wand threateningly at the struggling Luna.

"Stop it or I'll Petrify you!" he warned her.

"Harry, I'm sorry," mumbled Hermione.

"Give me the Stone," he said commandingly. "Get yourselves out. I'll deal with it."

She opened her mouth to protest but she let out a high-pitched wail instead. Harry wheeled around to see the dead Mrs Lovegood crawling on the remains of the tank, a fierce look in her glassy-white eyes. Instinctively, he pointed his wand at the wall and yelled "_Reducto_!" The shelves broke and dozens of book fell on top of her, obstructing the way momentarily.

When he turned back to face Hermione, she was holding the necklace at arm's length as though wanting to get away from it. Harry took it resolutely and said: "Now leave."

"Wait, no!" Ginny cried out. "I won't leave you!"

"Ron, take them outside and wait for me there."

He couldn't look into Ginny's face. He knew that if he did, he wouldn't be able to let her go. But she was hurt. It would be selfish to risk her life only because he wanted to keep her close.

Viktor Krum seemed to read his thoughts. Without delay, he took Ginny and Luna by the arms even though they were both struggling and led them through the doorway at a fast pace.

"You go too," said Harry to Ron and Hermione. "I know what to do."

"If you don't come back, Ginny's going to kill me," said Ron with a weak smirk.

But there was no time for a reply. With a terrible breaking noise, the dead body was free from the debris and was hurling itself forward on all fours towards the threshold leading out of the Lovegood's lab and to the world beyond.


	18. Chapter 18

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter eighteen 

Several spells came to Harry's mind, but none of them seemed powerful enough to keep an Inferi at bay. He dived out of the way and cast a Shield Charm over the exit, magically sealing the only way out, and then he tried stunning the dead Mrs Lovegood again, as Viktor had, but she was too fast and his spell hit a desk instead, sending more rubble all over the floor. His attempt at keeping the monstrous being inside the laboratory seemed to add to the creature's fury and she wheeled from her course and lunged at Harry instead. He leaped just in time to avoid colliding with his attacker and the corpse of Mrs Lovegood crashed into the wall head first. At least, he had her full attention now and she was no longer trying to leave the room.

"That's it! Come on! Come and get me!" he said tauntingly, leaping over the wrecked furniture.

He had to keep moving, and to stir fast, but it wasn't easy with all the debris, water and broken glass on the floor. The creature kept coming at him with inhuman strength, determined on killing him; he was the only obstacle to its escape. As he wheeled and lunged from wall to wall, trying to avoid the reeking corpse, Harry's thoughts were focused on the Resurrection Stone which was dangling from his fist in the heart-shaped locket. He only needed a few seconds to use the Stone, but the Inferi was not giving him a moment's rest. _Fire, I need fire_, he thought as he dived out of the way once more and the creature rolled over on the floor, having missed him by an inch.

He was able to make a blue flame appear at the end of his phoenix wand, and throw it at the Inferi like a Bludger, but it wasn't nearly powerful enough and merely caused the dead body of Mrs Lovegood to stumbled slightly.

He knew another spell, of course, a stronger one. His hands had been burnt by it. It had been powerful enough to destroy a Horcrux: Ravenclaw's diadem. He didn't know how to cast it exactly, but he was sure that the Elder Wand would. All that he had to do was to reach for it inside his pocket.

"Potter, move! Vat are you doing?_ Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Startled, Harry felt his body being lifted from the ground, swept upwards as though he had just been hit by an invisible wave. Unfortunately the Inferi was swift and caught his right ankle before the spell could carry him out of the way. The felt the sharp nails dig into his skin, saw the creature's black teeth as it was pulling him down with ferocity.

Aiming for the Inferi's hands as best as he could, he said "_Relashio_!" and the creature hissed in pain and recoiled. But his own spell had also hit his foot; he felt its sting on his skin and bones. He landed roughly on the ground and stumbled sideways. His right ankle could no longer support him.

"_Incarcerate_!" said Viktor Krum forcefully.

Thick ropes erupted from his wand and the Inferi instantly buckled to the floor, its legs tied together by the spell.

"Are you alright, Potter?"

"I thought I had blocked the exit," Harry yelled from across the room

"That vas the easy part," Krum replied back.

His eyes were fixed on the struggling creature and he was holding his wand with both of his hands.

"It's not over yet. You've got to get yourself out."

"You're not the boss of me, Potter. Vat's your plan?"

Harry hesitated. He was fighting an urge to pull out the Elder Wand again, but the presence of Viktor Krum and his own inability to control the wand made him discard the idea. His only option was the Resurrection Stone.

"I'm going to send her back – with _this_," he said, holding up the heart-shaped locket for Krum to see.

"Is that the –?"

"Yes."

"You'd better do it quick, then."

Closing his eyes, Harry turned the locket three times in the palm of his hands and thought imperatively: _Go back to where you came from_.

He could still hear the creature hiss angrily, writhe on the floor and thrash everything within arm's length. He repeated the act once more, but there was no change.

"Harry, look out!" Krum shouted.

Harry opened his eyes and saw the Inferi crawling towards him on its forearms, twisting and pulling itself forward with its bind legs. He took a cautious step back, trying to avoid putting weight on his injured ankle, and yelled "_Petrificus Totalus_!" but the spell bounced off the moving dead corpse without having any effect. "_Imperio_!" he tried again, but the Unforgivable Curse was useless as well.

"Direct spells von't vork. Use the surroundings. _Reducto_!" Krum yelled.

Something heavy fell from the ceiling and landed between Harry and the Inferi with a metallic clung. The room became instantly dark and Harry understood that Krum had wrecked the lighting system. Both of them lit their wands at once and the laboratory became filled with shadows.

"Vhere is it?"

Harry looked down at the floor and realised with horror that the dead Mrs Lovegood was not there anymore. The Resurrection Stone felt inexplicably dormant in his hand; he was certain that the disappearance of the Inferi was not linked to the Stone. He raised his wand higher and thought he saw something moving in the dark.

"Vatever you're doing, it's not vorking," said Krum edgily.

He, too, was circling the room searchingly with the light of his wand.

"I know it's not working," said Harry irritably, feeling he was being lectured. "What do _you_ have to propose?"

"Let me try."

This wasn't the place or the time to argue. At once, Harry threw the locket over at Krum who seized it in the semi-darkness as easily as if it had been the Golden Snitch.

"Just turn it three times over in your hand and tell it to go back," said Harry.

He had no time to see if Krum was following his instructions. The weight of Mrs Lovegood's dead body hit him with force on the chest and he fell backwards onto the ground, banging his head on the floor. The Inferi grabbed his wrist with all its might; Harry's wand was slipping through his fingers. A reeking smell filled his nostrils and little stars erupted in front of his eyes. All he could do to keep the creature at bay was to push it off with his legs. He could feel the pain in the right ankle building up as he pushed harder and found himself hoping that the Elder Wand was going to do something unexpected.

And suddenly, the room became intensely bright and the contrast was such that Harry had to shut his eyes. The Inferi moaned and hissed and finally released its grip. Grasping for his wand with his now freed hand, Harry looked up and yelled "_Stupefy_!" and the creature was pushed off him by the spell. It crashed into the wall and landed in a circle of pure white light where it collapsed on the floor, struggling and writhing against the increasing brightness.

It took a few seconds to Harry's eyes to adjust to the intense level of brilliance. Someone was walking towards him. When he was able to make out her shape, she was already standing at his feet.

"How's my Luna?"

He was looking at a very different Mrs Lovegood. Her long wavy hair was blowing around her face as though she was surrounded by a soft breeze. She had a white silky gown, pale grey eyes and a loving smile. Her skin was not blackened or decaying. There was a bright aura around her features and it was hard to tell whether the light was irradiating from her whole being or shining from above.

She was smiling at him in such a caring manner that it made him look away uneasily.

"She misses you," he replied timidly.

He was leaning on the remains of a desk to pull himself up to a standing position. She did not offer him assistance but waited patiently. After all, she had no body. She seemed made of vapour and light. Unlike his parents, who had looked real, she was ghost-like, a vision out of a dream. _Not a ghost_, he thought with sudden realisation, _Mrs Lovegood's soul. _

"I miss her too," she said in a dreamy voice that was very much like Luna's. "I'm always around, but it's not the same. Luna understands these things. She's been telling my husband for years that he has to let me go. As this place proves it, she hasn't been successful."

She glanced over her shoulder and Harry saw that she was not looking at the Inferi but at the writings on the walls. When her eyes fell on the unfriendly creature on the floor, her expression became stern. The moving dead corpse was still moaning and recoiling from the intense light with both of its arms over its head.

"Not a pretty sight, is it? Nothing but an empty shell. Did my Luna see it?"

"No – _yes_. Just a glance. She'll be fine, though. She's tough."

She turned to face Harry and her lips curved into a knowing grin.

"Not as tough as you, I heard."

"Mrs Lovegood, what's happening" – he wanted to say 'to me' but he said "to the Hallows?"

"You're very brave, but you're not very quick, Harry Potter. Do you think he would give away such powers without a cost?"

"Cost? You mean there's a catch?"

"He's the Lord of the Underworld. With him, there's always a catch. Can't you guess what it is?"

She took a step closer to him and bent low so that she could whisper to his ear.

"Why do you think the three brothers went their separate ways?"

"They had to," Harry answered without much reflection.

She straightened up and stared at him meaningfully, signalling him that he was on the right path.

"They had no choice," said Harry as the implications of what he had just voiced out hit him. "They didn't want to be tempted to unite the Hallows. They didn't want the Hallows to come between them as brothers."

She nodded.

"Not bad, for someone who doesn't have any siblings."

But Harry wasn't thinking about brothers or sisters, he was thinking about Ron and Hermione. Was he going to have to get away from them in order to protect them? Would they each have to take a different Hallow and go their separate ways?

"If united under a single master, the Hallows will destroy each other and their bearer. This was Hades' warning to the three brothers. It's not in your fairy tale book, is it?"

"No, the rumour is quite the opposite, actually," said Harry, and as he spoke he realised that he was shaking. Then he added: "I didn't choose this."

"_That_ is what makes you so interesting to Him," Mrs Lovegood replied pointedly. "If given an alternative, what fate would you choose?"

"You're talking about William Peverell, aren't you? He made a bargain with Hades."

"A bargain, yes. A sacrifice. The ultimate choice. But, incidentally, I was talking about you. Not Peverell. You should give it some thought, before you meet Him."

"Which will be soon? Is that what you're saying?"

There was a faint wail which caused the ghost-like Mrs Lovegood to face her decaying corpse again.

"I'm afraid I don't have all the answers, Harry," she said sympathetically. "Everything I've told you, I know from my husband's work. You should assume that now the Triskelions know too."

Her glance was fixed on the dead body and her light was slightly wavering; her time must be running out.

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

She nodded but did not reply. She had already stepped away from him and closer to the writhing creature on the floor. Something was happening between the body and the soul, but Harry was not sure what. The light became less and less bright as Mrs Lovegood's ghost-like form kneeled besides her cadaver. Slowly, she extended her fingers and touched those of the Inferi. As it happened, the entire house shook violently. Harry stumbled forward, leaning on the remains of the desk. He saw Viktor Krum stagger as well.

Mrs Lovegood seemed to hesitate. She glanced around at the room and at the walls, and then at Harry and Viktor.

"For years, I've lingered in this place, bond to my home by my husband's magic. When I leave, I fear that the house will not endure. Get yourselves out, and give Luna my love."

With one last smile, she turned to the Inferi and suddenly the writhing creature and the spectral being became as one in a flash of pure white light. The after-effect was like an earthquake. The walls began to shake violently and with increasing intensity. Parts of the ceiling began to fall onto the other rubble, adding clouds of smoke and dust to the flotsam and jetsam. The house was trembling and making an incredible racket; it was about to collapse on top of them if they didn't get out fast.

"_Protego_!" Krum yelled through the noise as a large beam fell close to where he had been standing.

Following his example, Harry cast his Shield Charm as well, but unfortunately his injured ankle made it difficult for him to make his way through the wreckage. Another beam crashed near him and he fell over on a pile of broken furniture.

"Come on, Potter! Get up!" Krum cried out.

Coughing and struggling, Harry managed with great effort to pull himself up on his feet. Krum was coming towards him as best as he could with the ceiling and wall collapsing all around them. He had almost reached Harry when a section of the stone wall broke and fell in Krum's path.

"Just go! Get out of here!"

"Are you kidding? Ve're getting out together!"

With one giant leap, Viktor Krum made it through to where Harry was standing. Pulling Harry's arm around his shoulder, he said: "You can Disapparate, can't you?"

Krum didn't give Harry time to reply. The last glimpse of the Lovegood's laboratory that Harry caught was thick grey smoke through which he thought he saw the silhouette of a woman walking deeper and deeper into the blackness of her tomb.


	19. Chapter 19

Hello all. I've got to apologize for the long time between updates. It's been really crazy for me! I've had a few messages about chapter summaries since the story is long. I'll make it available upon request. Just send me a word!

By the way, you may read my other story by searching for "Harry Potter and the Dream Book".

Enjoy.

N.B. I don't own Harry Potter.

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter nineteen 

As soon as their feet touched the ground, Krum waved his wand and sent out a silvery shape through mist. It was hard to make out the outline of the Patronus in the grey, ghastly weather, but it was four-legged, big and fast. Harry swayed slightly as he tried once again to put weight on his right ankle, but his efforts were pointless. Fortunately, there was a large rock near at hand on which he settled clumsily; it was a bit slippery although it had stopped raining. They others would arrive shortly, led by Krum's Patronus.

They had Apparated on the top of the hill looking over the Lovegood's house. It was the same peak where he, Ron and Hermione had stood a few months ago when they had first visited Xeno Lovegood. The sight, Harry realised, would never be the same. The cylindrical construction that had been Luna's house had collapsed at its base, and now it stood at a weird angle, with parts of its wall caved in, and a thick cloud of grey smoke rising from a hole on the roof. The overall impression now was that of a crooked thumb with a missing a nail.

"There vas no need for you to stay behind," said Krum, his gaze fixed expectantly on the path which led from their current position to Luna's house. "Dying in there vould have been pointless."

"Right," Harry mumbled awkwardly.

He couldn't help but feel that he was being lectured, but before he could think of something to add to justify his reaction, Krum pointed at the horizon and said: "There they are."

To be sure, Hermione was walking in the lead, taking great leaps on the muddy ground and almost falling once or twice. Luckily, Ron was following her close enough to catch her arm. Together, they stumbled on and on towards the hilltop where Harry and Krum were waiting. They were followed by Ginny, her red hair somewhat less shiny under the grey sky, and then by Xeno Lovegood who was drifting light as a feather under Luna's Hover Charm.

"It's not your fault, Hermione," Harry said as soon as she had reached the top of the hill.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," she replied, panting. "I couldn't help it. All those writing on the wall, they were about her, about Luna's mother. He was trying to bring her back."

"I know. I think he magically imprisoned her soul in the house."

Hermione and Ron gasped simultaneously.

"But that's horrible!"

"How did you fix it?" Ron asked, raising an eyebrow and glancing over his shoulder at the crumbled house. "You _did_ fix it, right?"

"I didn't, actually. Viktor did, with the Stone. It would not work for me, for some reason. But it worked, in the end, and that's all that matters. She was bond to that cave by magic, and now she's free."

"That explains what happened to the house, then," Hermione concluded.

As she said this, Ginny arrived at the peak and immediately went towards him and for a moment he could see nothing but her.

"What happened?" she said, kneeling besides Harry and glancing at Viktor Krum.

"Ve sent her back to the vorld of the dead, and then the house collapsed on top of us," replied the Bulgarian calmly.

"I heard that part. I meant what happened to Harry?"

She reached down for Harry's ankle. He was startled to see his jeans thorn at the rim and red stains on his trainers like inkblots.

"I cast _Relashio_ at my foot by accident," he answered sheepishly. "What about you? Are you all right?"

He had just spotted a few thin cuts on her arms and face as well as a scab of sticky red blood on the front of her head.

"It's not bad. I was a bit stunned, that's all. I've been stupid, really. I should have moved out of the way a lot quicker."

"Don't say that," Krum said in a surprisingly soft tone. "You're not stupid."

He was staring intensely at Ginny in such a way that Harry felt small and slightly out of place. He couldn't help but wonder about the things Ginny and Krum had shared while he was on the run and looking for Horcruxes. And as he thought so, he felt a great wave of jealousy coming over him. How many laughs had he missed? How many warm afternoons? How many evenings by the fire in the Gryffindor Common Room? But then, it had been war, had it not? The happy moments must have been scarce. Yet he had been absent from those moments, and perhaps Viktor had been there.

"I'm not as perfect as you imagine me to be, Viktor," Ginny uttered after a short while, shaking her head.

Krum did not seem to want to argue and fell silent. Ron and Hermione were both staring at the floating form of Xeno Lovegood while glancing nervously from Harry to Viktor.

Only Ginny did not seem disturbed by the awkward moment as she pulled out her wand, placed it on Harry's ankle and started to mumble a spell under her breath. Harry's toes began to grow numb and the pain on his foot seemed to decrease significantly until all he could feel was a little tingle.

"That ought to do the trick for now, but we'll have to take you to a Healer," she said after she was done. "Magical injuries are always trickier than they look. I've just made it more bearable so that you can walk."

"You can do that? I didn't know you could do that," Hermione said and Harry could clearly hear the mixture of incredulity and interest in her voice.

"Well, I did it a lot last year," Ginny replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "There was always someone who needed patching up, so Luna and Neville and I learnt a few Healing techniques."

With her hands on Harry's knees, she rose from her kneeling position, but her foot slipped on the mud and it was Viktor Krum who caught her arm, which resulted in another awkward moment. Hot, bubbling jealously crept over Harry's whole body again and he decided that this would be a good time for him to lace up his trainers.

"We're still Dumbledore's Army, aren't we?"

Harry was glad for the diversion and wondered for a short moment if Luna had done it on purpose.

"We are, Luna," he replied solemnly, straightening up.

"Are we still pretending, then?"

"Pretending?"

And then, from the way Luna was staring at Ginny and Viktor, Harry understood. It all became clear: Ginny's quick shift in places when Slughorn had paid them a visit at the Burrow, her apparent closeness with Viktor Krum, the information they seemed to have shared, Viktor's knowledge of the DAs secret motto. Ginny's closeness to Undesirable Number One, namely Harry Potter, was commonly known. Had her safety been jeopardized upon going back to Hogwarts? Could this have been the solution then?

"You pretended to be together last year, didn't you?"

"_What_?" Ron gasped. "_Who_? What are you talking about?"

Ginny shook her arm to free it from Krum's hold. Her face had suddenly gone red.

"It was only for the cause, all right?" she burst out. "Everyone thought I was in danger. They didn't want me to go back to Hogwarts if it was still widely known that Harry and I had something like a relationship. It was a stupid plan."

"It vasn't stupid," Krum insisted. "You keep denying it, but there vere serious threats."

"What kind of threats?" Hermione asked, appalled.

"Howlers. There was a parcel full of snakes; that sort of things. It wasn't nearly enough to scare me."

"It should have," Krum pointed out, which only made Ginny snort derisively.

"Mum came up with this plan. And when they finally told me about it, it was already all put in motion. Neville's grandmother and Auntie Muriel spread the rumour. It was agreed that Viktor would come to see me off on Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarter, but they only told me that on the way to King's Cross."

"They knew that you vould not agree and it vas imperative that you…"

"What? _Obeyed_?"

"Cooperated."

"They didn't really give me another option, did they?"

"They vanted to protect you."

"Then they should have included me in the plan!"

Ginny's last outburst echoed around them. Viktor seemed to swallow his retort as though he knew that he could not win an argument with her.

"It was like that the whole time," Luna said to Harry's attention. "At least Viktor was a good choice. They wanted to pretend that Ginny was dating Neville at first. That would have been weird."

Harry couldn't help but think that he would have preferred the first option. Somehow, the idea of Ginny holding hands with the broad-shouldered world-famous Bulgarian Seeker was not comforting to him, even if it was just a façade.

"There are some people who still don't know it was an act, though. Am I right?"

His voice sounded to him distant and misty as though it wasn't quite his own. It had just hit him how far and disconnected from Ginny he had been during the course of last year. The relationship that they had formed before Dumbledore's death seemed like the memory of someone else's life. It would never be the same. Nothing would ever be the same. He had changed, and so had Ginny and everyone else. Whatever they had had before, it would be different now. A small part of him, a persistent voice that he wanted to shut out, kept whispering to his brain: _what if she didn't want him anymore?_

"You're thinking about Slughorn," Ginny said, trying to catch his eyes. "Yes, I think he's still buying it. In his mind, we're as good as married, Viktor and I. He keeps telling everybody how he thinks it's a good match. I heard him even at the funeral. He's so nosy, and he likes to have a word with Rita Skeeter now and then. If he thinks we're still together, then we can bet that the rest of the Wizarding World thinks so as well."

"And you're still pretending because –?" Ron started to say.

"Slughorn's up to something, Ron!" Ginny snapped back. "It gives us an advantage. He thinks he knows Harry through and through, but this way we know something he doesn't. He thinks I'm out of the equation when I really am not. To understand him, you have to think like a Slytherin."

"Dumbledore trusted him," Hermione pointed out, waving her finger at Ginny.

"I'm not saying he's a Death Eater," Ginny replied. "I'm just saying he's a dirty little snitch."

"We think he's behind what happened to Elinor Ferrars and Matthew Bones," Luna said as though it made Slughorn's nature quite clear.

Ginny glanced quickly at her. It was as though a shadow had descended upon them. There was something like pain and grief on Ginny's face, but also anger.

"What – what happened to them?" Hermione asked shakily, taking Ron's hand.

Ginny took a deep breath before starting to answer. Like Luna, she was now staring at the floating form of Mr Lovegood.

"They were seeing each other secretly. Matthew was in hiding. He was Amelia Bones' nephew, the only one left of her family. Slughorn invited Elinor to one of his parties and a few weeks later they found her body in Hogsmead."

"It doesn't mean he sold her…" Hermione started to say.

"Slughorn would have done anything to stay in Snape's good graces," Ginny cut her off. "He got drunk and let it spill out, that's what happened."

Harry couldn't help but recall how he had gotten the memory from Slughorn a year ago. It would have been even easier for Snape since he was a good Legilimens. _But Snape was on our side_, Harry had to remind himself. Would the professor have allowed anything to happen to a student in order to keep up his place at Voldemort's side? Harry couldn't bear to think of the answer: Severus Snape, who had loved him mother, Lily, so deeply, so unequivocally…

"They made it look like she hanged herself," continued Ginny. "There was a suicide letter, but the writing was clearly that of Alecto Carrow. The next day, Matthew Bones burst into the Great Hall and tried to take on the Carrows by himself. They laughed while they used the Cruciatus Curse on him. And then they called the Dementors and the Kiss was performed on Matthew, in front of the whole school. He was just 15 years-old. They wouldn't have done it if McGonagall had been around, but she had been injured a few days before during Quidditch and she was unconscious in the Hospital Wing. She was livid when she found out. We had to stop her doing something stupid as well. That's when Neville started to take charge a bit more. We couldn't let McGonagall get sacked. That would have been the end of Hogwarts altogether. We just had to hold on until – until you came back."

Ginny's back was turned on everyone else, but Harry could tell that the last part of the story had been difficult for her to let out. They had spent the whole year expecting his return, not knowing when or if he would. They had clung to that one, tiny hope, supporting each other, encouraging each other to hold on. At that moment, Harry felt the need to walk up to Ginny, to hold her tight, to tell her that it was over now.

However, he stumbled on his bad ankle and it was Viktor who got to her first. He could only watch as the strong Bulgarian pressed a comforting hand on Ginny's shoulder.

"I didn't even know them," she finally said, straightening up and wiping her face with her sleeve.

"They were both in Ravenclaw, fourth year," Luna commented, her voice somewhat mistier than usual. "Elinor is happy now, like Mum, but not Matthew. He's not really dead: his soul was just taken. That was really awful to watch, wasn't it?"

No one said anything. Harry couldn't quite believe it: the Dementor's Kiss, almost unbearable to witness, performed in the Great Hall, at Hogwarts, in front of the students… If he was indeed a Master of Death, and if he stepped through the Archway of the Dead, he could make sure that this would never happen again; he could send the Dementors back into their realm. Mrs Lovegood had spoken of a bargain, a sacrifice, the ultimate choice. What would he give up to see the Dementors leave forever? Would he have to give up a lifetime of happiness with Ginny?

_Ginny_, who now had Viktor who cared so much for her…

"What now?" Viktor asked as a thick cloud of rain settled over their heads.

"Destroy the Hallows," said Hermione imperatively and with her eyes fixed on Harry.

"Yeah," Ron agreed eagerly. "The Triskelions can keep searching. They'll never find the Hallows if they don't exist anymore."

"What about your family? What are you all going to do? Hide, until they figure out that they're searching in vain?"

"Vat do you suggest then?" said Krum.

Harry was staring at the hovering Mr Lovegood and remembering the desperate cry: 'Make no bargain!' His instincts were telling him to do what Hermione suggested, but in his heart, he wanted to rid the world of this other evil: Dementors. And if the responsibility had fallen on his shoulder, then so be it.

"What if I wanted to learn more about William Peverell?" he asked at large. "Where would be the place to start?"

He could hear in his voice the same pleading tone that he had used to try to convince Hermione to go to Godric's Hollow.

"Hogwarts' library, of course," Luna said cheerfully.

Hermione said: "Azkaban."

Ron said: "The Ministry of Magic."

Krum said: "Durmstrang."

"Azkaban, that's brilliant! But that's also barking mad, not to mention dreadfully scary. Forget it; I'll never set foot in there."

But Harry wasn't thinking about Azkaban.

"Durmstrang?"

"There's a painting of Villiam Peverell in our Great Hall," said Krum as though this was common knowledge.

Ginny wheeled around to face the Bulgarian.

"Can you take us?" she asked almost pleadingly.

Viktor glanced around at the others, frowning as though he was planning something complicated in his head, and then his stare fell on Mr Lovegood.

"Not him," he said with a meaningful glance at Luna.

"Daddy and I will go to Neville's."

Harry couldn't help but gasp momentarily. He had expected her to tag along now that she was involved. Her outlook on things was always insightful and refreshing. He needed that at the moment. He was in pain, cold, weary. He needed someone who could keep a clear head.

But it was too late. Hermione had already turned a quill from her handbag into a Portkey and Ron was helping Krum bring Mr Lovegood down on the firm ground.

"You'll be all right, Harry," Luna whispered to him while the others were occupied. "You've made it this far. I always thought you were sort of knight, but without the shining armour."

"I'm not a knight…"

"Of course you are. You're Dumbledore's Knight. You just don't trust it enough. What did my mummy say?"

"She – she said to give her love," Harry uttered, a little taken aback.

Luna's instantly filled with tears. The others could not see it from where she was standing, but for some reason she was not shy to show Harry her grief.

"Ready, Luna?" Ron yelled.

She pulled the sleeve from her cloak to wipe her face, and then she kissed Harry on the cheek as though it was the most natural thing in the world. After that, she smiled warmly at him and turned to join her father who was now standing awkwardly with both of his eyes closed and a purple quill at his feet.

Harry's hand went automatically to his cheek. If he hadn't been so cold, he probably would have blushed.

"Oh, I forgot!" he heard Luna say when she was halfway between Harry and her father.

She came back to Harry and dropped a silky piece of fabric in his hands.

"Dad had this when Viktor found him. It might be a clue."

She winked at him and wheeled around again, and this time she did not turn around. A minute later, Luna, the sleeping Mr Lovegood and the purple quill all disappeared with a small whooshing noise.

It was only when they had gone that Harry unfolded the cloth. The silvery, silky material felt shockingly familiar between his fingers.

"What did she give you?" Ginny inquired, stepping closer to him.

Harry was so surprised that he did not reply right away. The fabric was worn out in several places. He couldn't believe it, yet it made terribly sense. Anyone wearing this shroud would certainly be only partly concealed, like pieces of flesh hanging in thin air. Harry's mind was racing: the Dark Forest, the creature, the inhuman apparition.

_Xen Lovegood, w__ith a worn out Invisibility Cloak. _


	20. Chapter 20

"Harry

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty

The last thing Harry had expected upon his first glimpse of Bulgaria was to be greeted by a very strong and startling smell.

"_Popcorn_? Why do I smell popcorn?"

"Good, I'm starving!" Ron said with a lot of enthusiasm.

"Don't get too exited, Veasley," Krum barked at once. "Your stomach vill have to vait."

They were all standing on an empty landing with rows and rows of seats in front of them. The light was dimmed, but there were a lot of clamouring beyond, chattering voices and crashing sounds as though someone in another room was listening to a very loud action movie. Other than that, the room was deserted, except for the five wizards who had just Apparated on the stage.

"We're in a movie theatre," Hermione voiced out while hiding her wand hastily. Then she added: "Muggles eat popcorn when they go to the movies, Ron."

As Harry's eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness, he noticed that the movie posters on the walls were actually up-to-date. With a quick glance over his shoulder, he also saw that they had Apparated in front of a large white screen with black curtains on each side; movie previews were being silently played.

"Muggles come into this room often to clean and prepare it," Krum explained, "but it is never on the schedule."

"Convenient," Ron chuckled. "What does it mean?"

"It means you should hide your vand, Veasley."

Harry saw Ron roll his eyes up in exasperation, but he nevertheless did as he was told. Krum, in the meantime, had stepped closer to the door leading into the hallway and was listening to the chatter beyond. Harry thought he looked slightly nervous for someone who was on familiar grounds.

"I'd like to see a movie some day. Will you take me?" uttered Ginny, laying a hand unexpectedly on Harry's forearm.

Harry's reply died in his throat. He wanted to say yes, but he really couldn't think any further than the task ahead at the moment. It was simply too uncertain, too remote. He had to focus on here and now; it was the only way to keep moving.

"We'll all go together," said Hermione, picking up on Harry's absent reply. "It'll be fun."

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled feebly, stepping down from the stage and avoiding Ginny's eyes.

"How's your ankle?" Hermione asked, watching him with a concerned look on her face.

"It's fine, honestly. Stop asking about it, OK?"

It was partly true. He could step on it and walk at a reasonable pace since Ginny's spell had removed most of the pain, but the ankle felt stiff and unresponsive as though he had dipped his foot in icy water, and therefore he couldn't avoid limping slightly each time he stepped on it.

"We've got to practice your aim, mate," said Ron, grinning and patting his shoulder while watching Hermione strode over to Krum.

"I'm a Seeker, not a Beater," Harry replied, half-smiling.

"You'd be a fair Beater, better than Neville anyway," Ginny commented.

"_Neville_?" Ron and Harry gasped in unison.

Then Ron added: "Neville can't fly, sis."

"Well, I tried him out anyway. No one else wanted to play. Too dangerous, you know. I took him in the team as Beater with Colin Creevey. But after the first practice I placed him Chaser instead and Colin's brother Dennis became Beater. They worked very well as a pair, the Creevey's."

She made no mention of Colin's death, but Harry could hear the presence of grief in her voice. Colin Creevey had died during the battle of Hogwarts. Colin and Dennis had been Gryffindor Beaters as well as brothers, like Fred and George.

Ginny seemed to pick up on what he was thinking; she slipped her hand gently into his.

"Quidditch made us feel like we were fighting back last year, you know."

"You were Quidditch Captain?"

"Yeah, and Chaser too," she said shyly and her cheeks became bright red.

"Who did you get as Seeker?" Ron asked with interest.

But at that moment Krum motioned for them to come closer and Ginny strode away so fast that Harry had the distinct feeling that she was deliberately avoiding answering the question.

"I thought you vere in a hurry," the Bulgarian said wryly to Harry when they were all standing near the door.

"Give him a break, will you?" Ginny scowled.

"Never mind," said Harry dismissively. "What now?"

"The hallway is emptying; the next presentation must be starting. But first, ve need to Duplicate your shirt, Harry, so that ve can valk freely in the city."

Harry looked down at his front, remembering at once what he was wearing: the black shirt with the Durmstrang logo.

"Family heirloom?" Krum asked, scrutinizing Harry's shirt as though he was expecting it to be fake.

"It was in a dresser in my godfather's house."

"Sirius Black? Then it must have belonged to Rodolphus Lestrange."

Harry suddenly felt extremely filthy and he had to refrain himself from ripping the shirt off.

"Bellatrix's husband?" Hermione gasped, looking appalled. "He went to Durmstrang? Oh! Kreacher must have mixed up his clothes with Sirius's stuff, Harry. You mustn't be angry with poor Kreacher. I'm sure he didn't do it on purpose."

"It's very lucky ve have this shirt in any case," Krum replied hastily. "Ve'll be able to pass as students. Ve vould have had to use the secret passageways othervise. Come on."

Without further ado, Krum pulled Harry out of the way of the light coming from the door's window, and with a quick and complicated-looking spell he produced with his wand four extra shirts which landed neatly at his feet. All the while, Harry was making a mental note to throw away all of Rodolphus Lestrange's clothes along with anything else that could have belonged to any Lestrange. He was just hoping that he would be able to separate it from Sirius's stuff; otherwise everything would have to be thrown out.

"You vill need to adjust it to your sizes," Krum said timidly to the girls as he distributed the shirts. "The bathroom door is right in front."

As soon as he had said this, Hermione and Ginny pushed the double-door open, hurried across the corridor and disappeared through the bathroom door, leaving Krum, Harry and Ron to appraise their outer appearance.

Ron had already pulled the shirt over his other long-sleeves top and he had thrown the Chuddley Cannons rucksack over his shoulder. The bag had been stuffed with Harry's and Mr Lovegood's Cloaks of Invisibility with the help of an Extendable Charm, the same one that made Hermione's handbag so convenient. Ron's look was very Muggle-like, except that his rucksack had several broomsticks printed on its pockets.

Harry did his best to flatten his fringe over his lightening scar, as he had done so often. Krum, for his part, had retreated in a darker corner to change shirt.

"Your vand is showing," Krum said to Harry when he returned seconds later.

Harry felt for his Pheonix wand which he had stuffed away into his left pocket, but it was suitably out of sight. The Elder Wand, on the other hand, was at least two thirds out of his right pocket. He tried to push it deeper, but it was no use: the wand was stubborn and would not stay hidden.

"Give it to me, then," Krum said with a tone of irritation.

When Harry hesitated, Krum's mood did not improve.

"Vands have to be kept out of sight of Muggles at all times. It is the rule, Potter."

"Let's put it in my rucksack, then," said Ron looking crossly at Krum.

A little reluctantly, Harry pulled out the Elder Wand to hand it over to Ron, but as he was holding it up in the half-light, something unexpected happened: the Wand disappeared. It was as though a Cloak of Invisibility had suddenly wrapped itself around it.

"What did you do?" Ron gasped.

Although he could not see it, Harry could still feel the wood of the Wand on the palm of his hand. The only explanation was that the Wand had made itself invisible in accordance to Harry's need. It was a very useful trick, because it meant that it could be held freely even in the presence of Muggles. To Harry, however, it was yet another sign that the Wand had a mind of its own.

"It's still there," Harry said when he realised that Ron's mouth was still wide-opened in bewilderment.

"Can you make it visible again?"

Harry's first idea was to say the command in his mind, but after thinking "be visible again" three times, there was no change.

"Maybe there's something you need to say, like a spell," Ron offered.

"Yeah, Ron," Harry cut him off, "I'll just go and get my Wand of Destiny handbook."

"Try visualizing your command," Krum offered.

Harry couldn't help throwing him a sceptical look.

"Just imagine it happening in your head," Krum insisted.

It was as though the order had been heard by the Wand loud and clear. It appeared instantly in Harry's hand as soon as he had set his mind to work on the visualisation. He tried imagining it disappearing again, and the Wand obeyed without protest.

"That's really handy, mate," Ron commented cheerfully.

Harry couldn't help but feel a little exalted. He had hoped that the Elder Wand would eventually accept him as its master, and for the first time, it was answering his command painlessly. Maybe it was how Dumbledore had done it: naturally, effortlessly, without pressuring it. It was more like collaboration between him and the Wand. They were working together now.

"You look like you want to marry it, mate," Ron chuckled, nudging Harry on the shoulder and making him jump in surprise. "Don't get too attached. We're going to destroy it, remember?"

"Err – yeah," Harry replied awkwardly.

He pretended to put it back in his pocket, but he slipped it in his sleeve instead such that the tip of the wand came resting in the palm of his right hand. Ron caught his movement and nodded in agreement; Krum appeared not to notice.

"There they are," said the Bulgarian all of a sudden.

Hermione and Ginny could be seen in the hallway wearing their Durmstrang shirts. Ginny had managed to adjust her shirt perfectly, but Hermione looked ill-at-ease in her shirt as it was a little too tight and a little too short. Harry could also see that she was clutching the heart-shaped locket with the Resurrection Stone in it while she walked. Clearly, the necklace could not be fitted under her tight top.

"Let's go," said Krum.

He pushed the door opened and the five of them were soon standing in the middle of the lobby, looking like a group of tourists with their matching black shirts.

"I can't wait to take this thing off," Hermione breathed out as soon as she saw Harry and Ron.

"I think you look nice."

"I meant the necklace, Ron."

Two teenage girls past quickly next to them to get to the bathroom and Harry heard them burst out laughing as soon as the door had closed behind them.

"Don't vorry about the Muggles. It's the security ve have to be careful about," said Krum. "Ve're not supposed to Apparate in groups; it attracts too much attention. Ve're usually in pairs. I'm hoping they'll make an exception."

"Why would they make an exception?" Ron asked sceptically.

"Just let me do the talking, Veasley. Here he comes."

Krum's glance turned towards a man with flowing blond hair and a blue uniform that had 'Movieplex' printed on the front in black and white letters; he was strolling towards them with a severe look on his face. He came up to Krum immediately and they started to speak in low voices in Bulgarian. Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny took a step back and remained silent, glancing at each other.

After a minute of back and forth between Krum and the man in uniform, they finally seemed to reach an understanding. They shook hands as though they had just concluded a deal, and then the security Wizard turned to the rest of the group with a large smug smile on his face.

"Hogwarts, huh? Durmstrang, much better. Viktor Krum, very good friend for you. Very famous. You enjoy Durmstrang, and no funny business. OK? Good."

And he walked away without any further comment.

"Nice to meet you too," said Ron sarcastically.

"Ve are permitted to valk in the city, but if ve cause any disturbance I vill be in big trouble."

There was a lot of comings and goings in the hallway and they made their way out of the movie theatre without further delay. Ron and Ginny seemed very interested by the movie posters and the plasma screen where movie previews were being played. Hermione, on the other hand, was staring at the high ceiling. Harry followed her glance and was startled to see a magnificent vaulted ceiling with chandeliers and paintings like that of a castle or cathedral. Harry had been in a movie theatre before, although not very often since Dudley preferred bringing a friend to having his cousin tag along, yet this theatre did not resemble the modern movie multiplex the Dursleys usually went to just outside London. In fact, it didn't look much like any movie theatre Harry had ever seen. There were wooden panels on the walls, natural stone floors and even some classical paintings in elaborate frames showing various winged characters and other mystical creatures. The paintings were very much like those at Hogwarts and Harry half-expected to see them moving.

"This used to be an opera house," Krum explained. "The building is centuries old, like the city. They turned it into a movie theatre five years ago, but it vas decided that it vould remain the entrance to Durmstrang regardless."

A cool breeze greeted them as they took the first step outside. They were standing in front of a busy street with cars parked everywhere and movie-goers walking hurriedly past them and speaking in fast Bulgarian. The city stretching in front of them had to be very old indeed, perhaps even older than London. Every edifice was more magnificent than the next. There seemed to be a church or cathedral at the end of every street, with grey and gold towers ending in rounded rooftops. The stone walls of each building had beautiful and artistic shapes and carvings. A grey-blue sky was opening up over their heads which was an improvement to the rain and ghastly weather they had had in England. It was strange to Harry to think that in the space of a few seconds, he had landed in another country.

"What do you mean when you say that this theatre is the entrance to Durmstrang?" Hermione inquired. "Where is the school?"

Harry saw that she was casting circular looks searchingly.

"The city _is_ the school," Krum replied with a grin on his face, clearly enjoying the fact that they were impressed. "This is the Capital City of Bulgaria, and it is Durmstrang also."

"Is the school under the city, then?" Hermione asked Viktor while they were waiting at the first of many traffic lights.

"The school vas built first, and then the city vas built on top of it. A good part of the school is underground, like the dormitories and the library, but some parts you can see all around you, like this building for example." He pointed in front of them at a rather uninteresting rectangular structure that looked like an arena.

"That's our Duelling Stadium."

"I read about that!" said Ron eagerly in a high-pitched voice that could have been Hermione's. "Durmstrang Duelling Club is famous for having won its hundredth World Championship back in 1912."

"Where did you read that?" said Ginny disbelievingly.

"In _Hogwarts: A History_," Hermione replied in an unusually soft tone.

The traffic light changed at that moment and Krum led them on to the next intersection. There were a lot of people on the sidewalk and Harry didn't want to let his guard down so he kept a firm grip on the Elder Wand. Even in the presence of Muggles, there could be trouble. He didn't want to use the Wand if he could avoid it, but he couldn't deny to himself that he felt safer with it resting on the palm of his hand. _It's just a precaution_, he thought obstinately as Ginny came to walk beside him.

"Ve have to valk a few blocks. I hope you're up to it, Harry," said Krum, glancing back. "Ve can't use magic to levitate you."

"I'm fine. Lead the way," Harry replied back.

Krum walked at a good pace ahead of them and they followed him through the noise and the crowd. They were on unfamiliar grounds therefore it was only natural to let Viktor lead. Hermione was walking hand in hand with Ron and kept whispering softly to his ear. Harry and Ginny were last, strolling at a slower pace because of Harry's ankle. It was only possible to walk two by two on the sidewalk, which Harry was thankful for. This gave him the opportunity to hold Ginny's hand and he had wanted to do that for a long time.

Ron and Hermione seemed to be thankful for the moment of peace as well. They slowed their pace and Harry saw them exchange a quick but passionate kiss as they walked.

"Let's give them some space," Ginny uttered to Harry's ear while slowing down. "When did they finally get together?"

"During the battle. Not a very convenient time for romance."

"I'm so happy for them."

"Yeah, they deserve it."

"_Deserve_ it?" she burst out, coming to a halt. Several pedestrians almost bumped into her but she remained stubbornly in the middle of the sidewalk. "Harry, no one _deserves_ to be loved. Love is not a price. That's not how it works."

"How does it work?"

"I don't know! It just happens. You sound like Hermione. There isn't a book about love, Harry. You just have to figure it out as you go along."

Silence fell on them again. Ron and Hermione were almost out of sight. There was a fountain nearby; Harry could hear the sound of running water among the chatter and the humming of engines. He wanted to grab Ginny and get away from everything. He didn't care about the Hallows or the Triskelions anymore. He only wanted to be with her, but at the same time he was realising that he couldn't.

"I want to go along with you, Ginny," he said timidly. "But I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know you don't," said Ginny softly. "That's what I'm saying to you: I don't care about what lays ahead. I just want to be with you." She had taken his left hand between both of hers and she was stroking it rather anxiously. "Harry, you are so cold. Your hands are like icicles. I know something is happening to you, and I know you'll get away to protect me if you have to. But you're stuck with me. There's no getting around it, OK? Not this time. We're in this together."

He tried to avoid her eyes. There was such stubbornness in her face.

"Ginny, there are so many people who care for you. Viktor cares for you a lot, I think. I don't want you to…"

He wanted to say "forget to live after I'm gone" but the words were not coming easily and so she cut him off before he could speak.

"You said 'Don't take my son', Harry. I heard you. You saw the future, like William Peverell. Now look at me in the eyes and tell it wasn't _our_ son who was in danger."

The foreign voices and the clatter around him seemed to die instantly. One moment, he was looking at Ginny's face; and then she was gone along with all of his surroundings. It was looking at the world through a mirror and seeing it shatter into a thousand pieces, and beyond it there were only darkness and pain. His mind was spinning with shadowy images and cries of despair. His knees hit something hard, but he did not care: no level of pain that he knew, and he knew a wide range, could be worse than this. _I'm going to loose a son._

And then, the vision became clear and full of blinding light; it was the clearer it had ever been. He saw their faces first, surrounded in brightness: two black-haired boys. The eldest was tall and outgoing; the second, skinny and reserved. And he knew their names at once: _James and Albus_. There was a baby girl, too. She had red hair like Ginny's. _Lily_. Suddenly he was looking at a scene at The Burrow. It was Christmas. Ginny was combing Lily's hair. James and Albus were playing with a toy broomstick and a Golden Snitch. Other children were running around him. He caught a glimpse of Ron and Hermione sitting on the floor with two red-haired toddlers. He felt so warm, so happy, at peace. And then the vision changed. It was as though he had been snatched away from total joy. He could hear his own panicked voice again: _Don't take my son_. _Please, not him._ He was running up the stairs to the Gryffindor Common Room. Something dreadful had just happened. He was going to walk into the Common Room, his favourite room in the world, and he would find his son dead there. _Murdered_. _Tortured_. He knew it. He had been foretold this would happen. _But why? _

The answer to his unspoken question came to his head in a cold whisper: _Because you're Harry Potter, that's why. Bad things will keep happening to you. What did you expect? Why would you even bother bringing a child into the world? Any children of yours will most likely die a horrible death. Why bother? _

And then Ginny's voice seemed to reply like a distant echo: _We're in this together_. The child had a mother too. Ginny was the mother. How could she not be? He could see a bit of her in each one of their children. Ginny knew what she was getting herself into just by being with him. She had been through so much last year alone. She was prepared. He was not going to face it all alone.

The vision was rolling in front of his eyes like a movie. He was pushing opened the portrait of the Fat Lady. His fingers touched the cold stone wall. He saw dancing shadows on the faces that turned to him as he stepped away from the threshold. Then his own voice burst out in his head like a command: _No! I don't want to know! I don't care! Get me out of here!_

And then the image broke into a thousand pieces and there was nothing but blackness and pain.


	21. Chapter 21

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-one

He saw the sidewalk at first, and then his hands: they were shaking. He had fallen on his knees. The voices around him were loud and agitated. Someone was pulling him up by the shoulders. _Ginny_. He had to take three or four deep breaths before straightening up. It was like being startled out of a vivid dream. The images were fading away rapidly and he was slightly disoriented. For one thing, he did not remember having been close to a fountain, yet there it was. It was near enough so that in a small number of careful steps he was able to sit on the rim. A few pedestrians were staring at him as though he was carrying some weird infection, but he did not care; he was used to stares.

"It happened again, didn't it?"

He only had to look into Ginny's eyes to know that he had just caused her a terrible fright. He could not lie to her.

"It was the future," he told her in a low voice.

The people around them were only speaking in Bulgarian; he knew that they could not understand, but this still felt like a private matter so he kept his voice down.

"Did you see what happens to our son?" Ginny asked bluntly.

Harry closed his eyes and tried to recall the scene. He had been so close to find out the outcome, and then at the last minute, he had been unable to withstand it. It had been he who had put an end to the vision, who had refused to know more. Had he been too scared to find out, or too weak to face the truth? Either way, Ginny deserved to know everything since it involved her future as well.

"I didn't see all of it – I couldn't – but there's still danger and maybe…"

"Death?"

He nodded, and then he saw the look of horror on her face and he felt very ashamed of his reaction. If he had been able to hold on a little longer, they would have known the outcome.

"I'm sorry. I couldn't see it all."

"It's not your fault…"

"No, it _is_ my fault," he said, cutting her off. "I couldn't find out. I had to stop it. I didn't want to see… It was worst than Dementors. And it's so real, the vision. I even know their names."

"Who?"

"Our children."

Ginny's face changed at once. He couldn't tell if she was happy or surprised or scared; perhaps it was a mixture of all of those feelings.

"We have three," he continued a little timidly. "Two boys and a baby girl: James, Albus and Lily."

She seemed to ponder with the idea during a few seconds.

"I like the name Albus. I would never have thought of it."

"I don't even know if I _want_ kids. Do we have to name them after my parents?"

Ginny seemed about to reply something, but she was cut off by a familiar shrieking.

"Harry! There you are! What are you doing? We thought we'd lost you. What happened? You look awful!"

Hermione was panting when she reached the fountain. She seemed in a state of near-panic. Ron was following her closely, his rucksack firmly on his left hand as though he was compensating for not being allowed to hold his wand.

"We hung back to give you two some privacy, and then Harry had a vision," Ginny explained rapidly while Hermione was catching her breath.

"_What_? What did you see?"

"Never mind that now. What's going on? Where's Viktor?" Harry replied in alarm.

Hermione pointed at a traffic light and, after a few pedestrians had stepped aside, Harry saw clearly the figure of Viktor Krum, dark and hunched, his hands deep inside his pockets, surrounded by three guards wearing Movieplex uniforms.

Harry was on his feet at once.

"What do they want?"

"We don't know," Ron confessed. "Foreign language, you know. We were hanging back like you were and then we saw those guys talking to Krum."

Harry's fingers immediately felt for the tip of the Elder Wand still resting on the palm of his right hand. He didn't want to cause any trouble for Viktor, but he really wanted – needed – to see that portrait of William Peverell. If Viktor was taken away by the security guards, then they would have to find it on their own.

Harry wheeled around, looking for that uninteresting rectangular building that Viktor had described as the Duelling Stadium. It wasn't very far on their left. Ginny seemed to have followed his glance.

"I see it," she said. "I'd say we make a run for it. It's our only chance."

"Don't be so dramatic," Hermione let out in a sigh of exasperation. "It's a school, not a high security vault in Gringotts. They'll let us in if we have a good reason."

"No, they won't," Ron replied stubbornly. "Did you ever see a student from another school at Hogwarts, except for the Triwizard Tournament? No, you didn't. That's because the location of each school is supposed to be kept secret. It's tradition; it's been like that for hundreds of years. Didn't you read that in _Hogwarts: a History_?"

Hermione looked slightly taken aback by Ron's obstinate tone.

"I _did_. But I don't think it should be taken _literally_. I'm sure reasonable people can see the logic…"

Harry distinctively saw Ron roll his eyes up.

"This isn't about reason or logic. It's about rivalry and jealousy and fear that the other team is going to steel your game plan. You know the saying: 'Don't show the Snitch and no Bludger will come to you'."

"Except that this isn't Quidditch, Ron," Hermione pointed out.

"We can debate more about this later," Ginny intervened before Ron could retort anything. "Viktor is coming our way."

Sure enough, the Bulgarian was catching up with them with his hand still in his pocket, no doubt clutching his wand as discreetly as possible.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked as soon as he was within earshot.

"There's been a security breach. Ve have to get indoors," Viktor said quietly.

"What kind of breach?" Hermione asked while glancing at the three men in Movieplex uniforms who had taken off at a run towards what appeared to be a shopping mall.

Harry could guess immediately what was going through her head as her expression changed from cool intellect to nervousness. Last year, it had been a necessity to cover their tracks before Disapparating, and after a while it had even become a habit. But they had performed none of the concealing spells before leaving the hill looking over Luna's house. They could easily have been followed.

"The intruder alert vas triggered, but not by us," Viktor continued, following Hermione's tense glance. "I told Metin in the movie theatre that you are Duelling Club members. That's the passvord I vas using last year to smuggle in Muggle-borns. The protective spells are still vorking, and ve have the shirts too. This intrusion is something else. Ve're not the only ones who aren't supposed to be here."

Harry saw Ron and Hermione exchange agreeing looks. Both of them seemed to be keeping their hands close to their wands and they had conveniently taken position on each of Harry's sides.

"Let's get inside quickly, then, Viktor," said Ginny pressingly.

There were too many people on the sidewalk and running would have brought attention unto them, therefore they walked at a fast pace with Harry in the middle of group. It was hard to see where Viktor was leading them, but it was definitely towards a less crowded area of the city. The streets were becoming narrower with every turn. They went left, then right, and then left again, until Harry could not recall which way they had turned previously. This was a strange city for him and the indications and street names were in a foreign language. They had no choice but to trust Viktor Krum to lead them safely inside the walls of the school.

After a few more blocks, they came into a round plaza that seemed to be the entrance to a modern-looking hotel. It was a white and glistering tower, with large black windows and a golden arch over the doorway. Several cars were parked in front of the building with their lights flashing. A dozen golden carts were waiting to be used near the rotating glass door, but there were no tourists, no clients and no drivers. In fact, Harry noticed, the cars were empty. There was no one to pack up the luggage on the golden carts, and no one with digital cameras or maps of the city asking for directions. The hotel looked completely deserted.

"This building is only a façade. It's actually the Great Hall inside," said Viktor speedily as they cut across the plaza towards the impressive edifice. "Ve can use the front entrance. It is summer so there vill not be many people."

When they reached the rotating glass door, Harry could not help but look over his shoulders to see if they had been followed. A bus full of people had stopped on the other side of the plaza, but none of its occupants were looking in the direction of the modern hotel. In fact, no one seemed to notice the building at all. It had to be strong magic to be able to conceal all of the comings and goings of Durmstrang's students.

The lobby was nothing extraordinary and could have passed for any average Muggle hotel. It had a fireplace in the center, comfy chairs and coffee tables here and there, and a check-in counter at the furthermost end of the hall. Krum strode quickly through the reception area and went directly towards the elevator. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione followed him without questions. As the elevator's door closed, Harry saw the Bulgarian pull out his wand and tap three times on the wall to his right. About a dozen different levers suddenly seemed to grow out of the wall. Krum chose one with a golden knob and pulled the handle downwards. The elevator began to rumble as it started its descent; they were going underground, and fast.

When it stopped, Harry felt his stomach go up to his throat; he felt certain from the pressure in his ears that they were at least as deep as Hogwarts' donjons, perhaps deeper.

"Oh! It's beautiful!" he heard Hermione whisper as soon as the door slid open.

Strangely enough, the first thing that struck Harry was the marble stone floor. It was like stepping on a life-sized black and white check board, which was reminding him of his first year at Hogwarts and at their life-sized game of Wizard Chess. The gallery seemed to go on for miles. The marble was spotless and thoroughly polished and Harry felt momentarily sorry for the poor house-elves who must be slaving to keep it that way. It was like a mirror; Harry could even see his reflection in it. But his was not the only face reflecting on the mirroring floor. As he glanced upwards, he saw hundreds of stone statues lined up against the wall, rows after rows, as far above their heads as the eyes could see. Each statue was unique and represented a mystical creature of some kind, some recognizable and others, not so familiar. Harry thought that he saw one that looked like a Hippogriff, one of them at least was a Griffin, and many others looked like ferocious dogs with wings. They were all perched on their individual stone steps and looking downwards menacingly at the newcomers.

"Gargoyles," Ginny said with her voice full of wonder. "I've never seen so many. Do they come alive sometimes?"

"Some do, but only if our Headmaster commands them to," Krum replied. "They only answer to him."

"I don't like those gargoyles," said Ron nervously to Harry's ears. "It feels like we're being watched."

"You are, actually," said Krum matter-of-factly. "It is their duty to protect Durmstrang."

Except for the stone gargoyles, the hall was empty of any furniture and it was also barely lit. Harry saw three large wooden chandeliers lined up over their heads, but no candles were burning on them. The only light was coming from a few torches at the end of the hall where Krum was leading them.

"Ve don't eat in the Great Hall like you do at Hogvarts. Ve use this room for social gatherings, like graduation or Vinter Solstice Celebration."

"What's Winter Solstice?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

Harry heard Ginny sigh deeply, but he couldn't tell if it was exasperation or nostalgia.

"It's a Ball. Guys in uniforms; girls in dresses. That sort of thing."

"Did you and Viktor…?" Harry began to ask, not really wanting to know the answer.

"No," said Viktor rather abruptly and his voice echoed in the long gallery. "I asked her, but she said no."

The Bulgarian resumed his course towards the end of the hall as Harry racked his brains to find another topic for discussion that would end the awkward moment.

"What was that you said about smuggling in Muggle-borns?"

"I vanted to help, that vas all," Krum answered, much more evenly. "Ve hid some people here. It vas a good hiding place. No one ever suspected it, not even the Death Eaters. No Muggle-born ever had a place at Durmstrang."

"But you're not a student anymore, are you?" Harry inquired again. "How did you manage it?"

"I teach Duelling," Krum replied. "This year vill be my third year as a teacher. Believe it or not, I like it more than Quidditch."

From the corner of his eye, Harry saw Ron's jaw drop and his mouth form the words: "_No way_!" However, to Harry it wasn't so hard to believe. After all, he had enjoyed the DA and that was a bit like teaching.

"What are those statues, Viktor? They're not like gargoyles," Ginny asked as they passed in front of four golden figures, two on each sides of the hall: a woman with large wings like an angel, a man with a crown, a woman with an orb in her right hand, and a man riding a lion.

"They are the founders and they represent the four houses," Krum explained. "I was in that house," he added, pointing at the statue of the man riding the lion.

The man was by far the youngest of the four, a teenager at the most. But as Harry looked closer at the beast that he was riding, he suddenly remembered another four-legged creature that had come out of Krum's wand.

"Your Patronus is a lion," Harry said, thinking out loud.

"Yes, like my grandfather," Krum nodded. "The portrait is that vay, Potter. _Lumos_."

As the tip of Krum's wand lit up, Harry's stare was immediately drawn towards a wooden door to their right that had been hard to see, almost invisible, in the dim light of the torches. They entered the narrow passageway in single file with Ron at the rear. The stairs were leading them downwards once more. When the door shut itself behind them, they were surrounded in complete darkness, except for the soft silvery glow of their wands. Harry, on the other hand, kept the Elder Wand up his sleeve as he needed to lean on the wall to keep his balance.

"This is faster and ve don't vant to be seen," said the Bulgarian before Ron could complain. "If they find us, Harry vill never get the chance to see that portrait again."

At last, they came at the end of the stairs and to a narrow wooden landing and Krum held his hand up to signal them to stop. It was still pitch black ahead of them, but what Harry realised gradually was that it was actually a black curtain. Viktor slipped his hand carefully into the fabric and found an opening. He looked through with great caution and then he turned towards the group following him.

"It looks empty. Ve can go in. If there's any trouble, come back this vay, othervise you vill get lost."

The room they stepped into was even more impressive than the Great Hall. It was so high and wide that Harry was sure the place was big enough to hold a Quidditch pitch. The walls were covered in white marble from floor to ceiling with golden threads running along the surface to form elaborate pictures of epic battles which were in motion. At the bottom, there was a floor of black and razor-sharp rocks and possibly a stream or pond because Harry could hear the sound of water running.

"Look! There's a waterfall!" said Ginny, pointing at the other end of the room.

Harry came up behind her. She was leaning on the wooden rail of the landing. A little way down, there was indeed a stream coming out of the rocks and cascading down into a pool of dark water. As Harry cast a circular look, he saw that there were four different wooden landings spread around the room, and each of them had a wooden stair going down unto the black rocks.

"Are we in the Duelling Stadium?" Ginny asked Viktor who was already on the first step of the stairway going down.

"Yes, but ve only use it for competition or official Duelling."

As they were all walking towards the stairs to follow Krum, Harry could not help but to stare at his surroundings. The walls were so high that it was possible to imagine that they were a great distance underneath the uninteresting building they had seen from outside. Yet above their heads, further up than the white and golden walls, there was the same blue-grey sky, a glimpse at the world beyond, just like the magical ceiling in Hogwarts' Great Hall, the ceiling that had been blown apart during the battle…

"You noticed?" Ginny uttered to Harry's ear while he was looking upwards. "Viktor's convinced that Durmstrang had a ceiling like this first. I think ours is nicer, though. And I don't really care who did it first. He thought I was really weird to think that."

"Yeah…" Harry replied vaguely.

"You think I'm weird?"

"No! I mean… I was thinking… Do you realize that this is where Dumbledore fought Grindelwald?"

"Yeah, so?"

"What if the Wand actually wanted to get here?"

"Harry, the wand doesn't make the wizard, you know that," she replied, shaking her head.

"I know, but what if…"

He pulled her closer to him so that the others wouldn't hear.

"Dumbledore was strong," he continued. "He could control it. It was like… tamed. But with a wizard like Grindelwald, it must have been…"

"Free?" Ginny whispered tentatively.

Somehow, the words seemed to fit together like the pieces of a puzzle. The implications of what he was discovering now about the Wand suddenly felt like a heavy weight on his shoulder. If he could not destroy it, if there was no way, then he would have to keep it under control for the rest of his life. He couldn't risk lending it to anyone, even for safe-keeping. Who could ever control such a Wand? Who could keep it tamed and still? Certainly not Harry who couldn't sleep very well, who was afraid of his dreams, who cared so much for his friends it made his insides hurt…

"I trust you, all right?" Ginny said suddenly, leaning a soft hand on his forearm.

"Maybe you shouldn't."

He knew his reply sounded bitter, but he had been unable to hold it back. He had the tip of the Elder Wand in the palm of his hand and he knew that he would use it without hesitation to save any of his friends, and especially Ginny. He knew he should put it away in Ron's bag, maybe he should not even had brought it with him at all, but there was a growing fear now following him everywhere. Something in his future was going to go terribly wrong. But what if the vision was true and the Wand was the only way to prevent it? What would he do? Sacrifice his son? _Ginny's_ son?

"Harry?"

Harry came out of his deep thinking to find Ginny staring at him with he most determined face he had seen her wear so far.

"I'm not afraid, you know. Whatever's in store for us, we'll face it together."

He could only reply with a kiss.

"Oi! You two! Come on! Harry, you've got to see this!"

Harry looked over Ginny's shoulder to see Ron's face at the bottom of the stairs. Hermione and Krum were no longer in sight.

Ginny took his left hand and together they headed down the stairs towards the floor of black rocks and the echoing waterfall. As they left the wooden stairs and took their first step on the strange ground, Harry could not help but feel very small at the bottom of such a deep pit. The rocks were so sharp and dark that he had the strange impression of walking on a field of broken blackboards. Also, this was slightly reminding him of the arena where he had had to steel a golden egg from a dragon's nest during the Triwizard Tournament.

Ron and Hermione were waiting patiently near the landing. They led Harry and Ginny along the wall until they found another much smaller landing that was actually a miniature platform overlooking the whole ground. It had to be the best spot in the entire stadium from which to watch the Duelling.

As Harry climbed the few steps to get unto the platform, it realised that the other three were allowing him to go first. Only Viktor was waiting up there for him, standing silently in from of a large and old-looking picture frame…

As soon as Harry saw the portrait, he knew that it had not been a waste of time to come to Durmstrang.

William Peverell was pictured as a strongly built man with a long mane of untamed black hair. On the canvas, he was standing on a heap of rocks in the middle of swirling waves. On his left hand, he had a ring with a black gem; on his right hand, he held a wand high up as though he was commanding to the stormy sea around him; and at his foot was a silvery pool like a piece of clothing that had been cast aside. His upper body was bare, and on his chest was a dark symbol, black and imposing, which seemed to have been burnt into his very skin: three spirals, linked in the middle and in a single line.

Harry's chest began to burn. The portrait was alerted to his presence.


	22. Chapter 22

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-two

Harry could not take his eyes off the portrait of William Peverell. He didn't want to turn around to face the others. He imagined that Ron and Hermione were wearing looks of total shock, but maybe they hadn't figured out yet what he had already guessed. The ominous mark on the bare chest, the black wild hair, the presence of the three sacred objects: it wasn't a coincidence.

"It's too old," said Ron in a low voice. "It looks like the magic has worn out."

"No, he talks. I've heard him once ven I vas still a student. He vas speaking to Dumbledore."

"_What_?" Ron and Hermione said at once.

Harry turned around to look at Krum with the same question printed on his face. The Bulgarian was leaning casually against the wooden rail of the balcony and stroking his chin thoughtfully.

"Dumbledore came here some time ago. It vas the year after the Trivizard Tournament. It must have been in June, right after the Daily Prophet announced that You-Know-Who vas back. I vas training vit the Duelling Club. Dumbledore came and asked me to lead him to Peverell's portrait. He vanted to know something about the Archvay, I think. I didn't hear everything. Peverell told Dumbledore not to attempt it, vatever they vere talking about. Dumbledore looked very sad ven he left."

"They were talking about Sirius."

Ginny had spoken unexpectedly and Harry was surprised to find her staring not at him, but at the portrait.

"I yelled at Dumbledore," she continued in a constricted voice. "I called him a coward for not going through the stone arch. I told him if he cared for Harry at all he would go in and get Sirius back. He never replied. He just left. Maybe he would have, but I guess Peverell told him it couldn't be done."

"That's a smart girl you have there, Potter."

Harry was momentarily taken aback, but he was very quick to recover his senses. The voice had come from the portrait, and it wasn't the only sound coming from the picture frame now; the swirling waves could be heard as well. The image had come to life and William Peverell was standing in the middle of a powerful storm, though he seemed untroubled by it. His black hair was blowing in the wind, his bare chest was glistening with seawater, his wand lay casually by his side on his right hand, and he was grinning.

"You heard everything that we were talking about?" Hermione asked a little suspiciously, taking a step closer to Harry.

William Peverell's facial expression seemed to soften when he replied. He didn't look smug or imposing anymore. In fact, there was something careless and nonchalant about his whole manner. _Like my father_, Harry thought.

"I always hear everything, but most of the times I choose to remain silent."

"How do you know my last name?" Harry asked unceremoniously.

There were so many questions in his head now that he was finding it difficult to give an order to his inquiries.

"Dumbledore told me about you, Harry Potter. It's unmistakable."

Harry thought about his lightening scar and instinctively reached for it with his left hand. Strangely, it wasn't the scar that was burning at the moment: it was the black mark on his chest. He could feel it distinctively on his skin. It wasn't really painful like his scar had been; it was more like a presence, a pulse.

"Why would Dumbledore talk to you about me?"

"We talked about Sirius Black, actually. The red-headed girl guessed right: Dumbledore wanted to know if there was a possibility of getting your godfather back from the Afterlife. I told him the truth: the only way would be through William Peverell's heir. Only the heir could ask the Lord of the Underworld for such an appeal. To be honest, I was disappointed to see that Dumbledore was just like the others, asking about the Archway, trying to find a way in for a private talk with Hades himself."

"The others? You mean the Triskelions," Krum joined in. "They've come here to ask you about the Archway."

"More than once, I bet," Ron added disapprovingly.

"They all come here with their problems and their pleas; never with the right intentions." Peverell answered with a touch of exasperation. "The Archway and the Hallows, that's all they ever talk about."

"Dumbledore wasn't like that," Ginny replied abruptly, her arms crossed on her chest, her eyes fixed on the portrait. "And I'm not a _red-headed_ _girl_, by the way. I'm Ginny Weasley."

William Peverell seemed undisturbed by Ginny's rather defiant tone. On the contrary, he was half-smiling in her direction.

"As I was saying, I was startled when Dumbledore asked me about the Arch. I remembered him, of course, from the duel with Grindelwald. I was intrigued by how much he already knew, and something he showed me, so I told him the whole story. There is only one who can walk through the Archway and hope to return."

"Yes, you said so before. William Peverell's heir," Hermione uttered.

She glanced sideways at Harry and her eyes were full of meaning. She, too, was beginning to understand.

"Dumbledore showed you his wand, didn't he? That's why you told him the whole story."

"You catch on quick, Potter," Peverell replied appreciatively.

"But hold on one moment," Viktor Krum suddenly cut in. "Villiam Peverell had no heir. He vas childless. The name of Peverell died with him. He vas the last. Everyone knows that."

"Childless? But…" Hermione began to say.

"Childless, yes. _Cursed_. Immortal, yet alone," Peverell replied in a mournful tone. He was moving around the portrait now and the waves seemed to echo his mood. There was lightening over his head and the sound of thunderclap could be heard far off and from within the picture.

"Let me tell you a story, young lady," Peverell continued. "A long time ago, there was a young Wizard who was powerful, selfish, arrogant, and who thought himself invincible. A task needed to be done that no other wizard had the nerves to accomplish. Therefore, the young wizard, seeking fame and glory, set out on the journey. He sailed for a long time when at last he met a deadly storm, stronger than his most powerful spells. The ship sank and the young wizard found himself alone on a deserted island and unable to leave it by any magic that he knew. On this heap of rocks, there was nothing except a stone arch, black and empty, almost a ruin, so the young wizard who thought himself invincible decided to walk through it. And then he died."

"He died?" Hermione said. She sounded a little confused.

William Peverell raised both eyebrows in exasperation again. "Of course, he did! The Archway is a door to the World of the Dead, young lady. If you step through it, there is no coming back."

"Then, the voices…" Harry started to say, remembering the strange sounds that he had heard through the veil two years ago.

Peverell stopped his pacing to look down at Harry and there was a sudden gloominess in his expression.

"The voices belong to the tormented souls, those who haven't been allowed to move on. You must have come close to death more than once to be able to hear those voices."

"Try at least once a year," Harry muttered with a half-grin.

He had hoped his comment would lighten the mood, but he saw that all of his friends had fallen silent. Hermione and Ron were staring at him with the same look they had had when he had told them he could talk to snakes.

"Luna heard the voices too," he snapped at them, a little annoyed.

"Luna?"

It was Peverell asking.

"Luna Lovegood; she's a friend of ours," Ginny replied. She seemed to be coming out of a reverie.

The smile on Peverell's face was unmistakable. "_Lovegood_. That's interesting," he commented in a low voice.

"How did you come back, then?" Krum cut in, eager to return to the topic at hand.

"In the Afterlife, the young wizard met the Lord of the Underworld, Hades, who so many years ago had given a Cloak, a Stone and a Wand to three unsuspecting brothers. He was curious to meet a descendant of the Peverells, you see. The young wizard decided to seize this opportunity to make a bargain with Hades, but the Lord of the Underworld doesn't give away anything without a price. In exchange for the safest wizard prison ever built, Dementors to guard it, and obviously a second chance to live for the young Peverell, Hades asked for a soul."

"A soul?"

The words had come to Harry's lips without his realising it.

"Yes, a soul. _My_ soul. You see, Hades collects the souls of the dead, that's his divine duty, but he has no power over the living. He knew that I wouldn't be his puppet, of course, so he offered me more than life; he offered me immortality, except that my soul would be his. There was another catch too: for as long as I lived, I could never have a child. How could I? My soul wasn't mine to pass on anymore."

As he said the last sentence, Peverell's dark eyes met Harry's. The resemblance was there, and the mark on Harry's chest, which was pulsing like a clock. If that had been Peverell's bargain, to give up having children, then how could he, Harry Potter, be standing here?

"And you agreed to that?" Hermione asked, appalled.

"Why not?" William Peverell burst out, throwing his arms up and sniggering. "There was no one important in my life, no one I loved. 'Peverell The Immortal', that's all I cared about. Azkaban was going to make me a hero, but immortality would make me a legend. And it did, as I heard."

There was no satisfaction or glee in his voice as he spoke.

"But you did, didn't you? You _had_ a child," said Harry, no longer able to contain himself.

Peverell's face seemed to soften at once.

"First, I fell in love. Elisabeth was her name. She was everything to me, but I couldn't give her what she wanted the most: a family. Still, she remained at my side for a long time even though she knew my curse. And then, one day, I woke up and she had gone. She left a letter to tell me not to seek her out, and so I obeyed. She married and had many children and I was happy for her. Many years later, I received word that she was dying and that she wanted to talk to me. As I knelt by her side, she called upon the eldest of her sons to bring her water, and as soon as I saw him I knew that he was mine."

"Vat about the bargain?" Viktor asked hastily.

"The Lord of the Underworld never found out, not until the moment when I died."

"But you vere immortal," Krum persisted.

"I was only immortal for as long as Hades felt like keeping me alive. My soul was his to dispose of whenever he pleased. Eventually, after over a hundred years, he got tired and decided that my time was over. At least he had the decency of giving me a few days to settle my affairs. I was able to have this painting made, and then I stepped through the Archway never to return. He must have been mad, though, when he found out about the boy."

Peverell was now walking in circle and twiddling his wand between his fingers. The waves kept hurling around him in swirls of grey, green, blue and brown, but the thunder was far off now, like a fading memory.

"Must have?" Harry repeated, glancing at Hermione.

"He can't know what happened next, Harry," she explained in a low voice. "He's just a painting."

The tall man nodded without a word.

"What happened to the boy?" Harry asked.

"He grew up and had children of his own, as far as I know."

"And no one ever found out that he was your son?" Ginny inquired.

Peverell took a deep breath.

"The real William Peverell believed that the Lord of the Underworld would not let this treachery unpunished. He was afraid for his son and for the generations to come. Therefore, he placed a spell on his own blood and a curse on the Hallows. The spell would keep his descendants hidden from Hades until an heir worthy of the name of Peverell would present himself."

Harry's eyes immediately darted towards the black spirals on Peverell's chest. He had put a spell on his own blood, and now Harry had the same mark unto his skin. Slowly, his hand reached up to the spot below his neck where he could feel the black lines pulsing like a rush of blood. Peverell noticed his gesture and took a few steps closer to his frame so that he could look directly into Harry's eyes.

"And the curse on the Hallows?" Hermione asked, glancing sideways at Harry.

She was clutching her heart-shaped necklace and Ron had suddenly pulled his rucksack closer to his chest.

"That's what the Hallows do, isn't it?" Harry voiced out, still staring into Peverell's eyes. "When united, they reveal who the heir is."

Peverell's face became grave, almost painful.

"Yes, but they cannot stay joined too long. The Hallows are not meant to be united. Hades wouldn't have given away such gifts without a price. But, Harry, you cannot keep them. Through them, he can see right into your soul, and he will use that to manipulate you."

"Manipulate? Why vould he manipulate Harry," Krum asked, puzzled.

He looked around at Ron, Ginny and Hermione, who all shot him back meaningful looks. The shock on Krum's face was undeniable.

"Harry has that mark on his chest too," Hermione explained to Viktor.

However, Harry was not thinking about the black mark, or the Hallows, but about the visions of his children. The idea that someone could peer into his soul, like Voldemort had, was maddening. How could he have let this happen, again? He was so weary of trying to prevent intrusion into the most private corners of his mind and heart. What defence did he have? Some notions of Occlumency? Would it be enough against the Lord of the Underworld, a _god_?

"It's already begun, hasn't it?" Peverell said in a low voice directly at Harry. "He has been showing you things. Hades knows your future, but he doesn't control it. You mustn't let him get to you."

"It's not exactly easy," Harry said between clenched teeth.

The fear of loosing a loved one, a child, seemed to have settled in his chest, somewhere beneath the pulsing black mark. He couldn't bear to think that it was already certain to happen, as though some obscure fate had decided to punish him. But it was even worst to know that someone knew how frightened he was.

"But what does he _want_ with Harry?" Ginny said forcefully, almost angrily, her voice echoing on the black rocks throughout the stadium. "Why is he tormenting him? Is it revenge because of what the real Peverell has done? None of it is Harry's fault!"

"I'm not sure what Hades is trying to accomplish," Peverell replied, stroking his chin. "But Harry is going to have to walk through the Archway to meet him; otherwise the torments may never end."

Harry felt Ginny seize his hand and he heard her whisper 'No bloody way' under her breath.

"Death; or eternal torment," Ron snorted. "Isn't there another option, just out of curiosity?"

"I have one," Ginny retorted heatedly. "How about we blow the Archway up? Let's destroy the bloody thing!"

"_That_, Miss Weasley, is not a valid option."

Harry wheeled around. He had expected Hermione to reply first to Ginny's suggestion, but the voice that had just spoken did not belong to any of his friends, or to the portrait of William Peverell. It was a much deeper voice, and because of the echo, it seemed to come from everywhere in the Duelling Stadium.

The Elder Wand immediately slid along Harry's arm and was soon in his hand, ready to act, yet still invisible. Ron, Hermione and Ginny drew out their wands as well and they all took position on each side of Harry. With their backs on the portrait, they had only a partial view of the arena; the black and sharp rocks were often a few feet high and could hide more than one person. Harry felt as though he was standing at the edge of the maze before the Third Task, and that wasn't a very comforting thought.

"I know that voice," Peverell said.

"Me too," Krum added between gritted teeth.

"Who are you? Show yourself!" Ron bellowed. But the only reply was the echo of his voice.

Krum yelled something in Bulgarian, but he received no answer either. However, Harry distinctively heard rustling nearby, close to his left; perhaps someone had tripped on the rocks. There were so many hiding places that it would be difficult to spot anyone, even at a short distance.

"Professor Slughorn?" Harry cried out.

"Whoever you are," Hermione said on top of her voice, "the school has been alerted to your presence. You have only seconds before…"

"I doubt that," replied the same deep voice.

It was much closer now and it echoed less. Also, it was a good distance further than the first spot where Harry had heard a noise. The deep-voiced person was at the far off right from the platform where the portrait hung; probably close to the waterfall.

"Who the Hell are you?" Ron yelled again.

"Forget about that, Ron," Ginny suddenly cut in. Then, waving her wand in a wide semi-circle in front of her, her lips formed the words _Homenum revelio_, but there was barely any sound; it was almost a non-verbal spell.

A faint orange glow appeared in at least six different places throughout the stadium, all of them floating over the black rocks as if to mark each spot. The closest of the lights was the one on Harry's left. As soon as Hermione spotted it, she pushed Harry on the shoulder to force him away from the stair and placed herself between him and the light. Ginny seemed to notice the gesture, but she remained to Harry's right, wand aloft and her eyes fixed on the place where the deep-voice person most probably was.

"We can take them," Ron whispered to Harry's ears. "We only have to hold them off until the Movieplex people get here. They're bound to, right?"

"I'm not sure," said Krum evasively.

"Indeed," Peverell agreed at once. "I will go and get the Headmaster."

William Peverell barely had time to finish his sentence. A jolt of red light shot between Harry and Ron and then hit the portrait dead center. Harry wheeled around in time to see his tall and athletic ancestor dive into the storming ocean behind him. A swirl of waves hit the rocks, but it wasn't enough to stop the blazing curse. The canvas began to burn from the center of the painting; ashes were falling on the platform like blazing snowflakes.

"_Aguamenti_!"

Hermione's wand immediately started to produce a jet of water in the direction of the portrait, but it was too late; the damage was done. At least half of the canvas was burned beyond repair.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time."

A hooded figure was now standing just a few steps in front of the platform. Harry could only guess how the speaker had come there so fast when seconds ago he had been on the far right. Yet, the orange light was still hanging over this man's head, seemingly invisible to its bearer. The long black cloak was trailing in the black rocks, and the man's face was hidden in the shadows, yet his presence was imposing.

"You don't need to hide, professor," said Krum crossly.

With his wand-free hand, the man pulled back the hood to reveal a face Harry had never seen before. The only familiar trait was the long black hair which was briefly reminding Harry of Severus Snape. However, the Bulgarian was much strongly built. He looked more like a Quidditch player than a teacher.

"Don't look so grim, Viktor. You've been a great help," he said in the same deep-voice that had spoken earlier.

"_What_?" Ginny cried out, her eyes darting towards Viktor Krum.

"No, I haven't! Don't believe him!"

"But of course you have. I thought your relationship with the Weasley girl would lead us to the Master of the Hallows, and so it has."

Harry distinctively saw that the orange lights were stirring; they were making their way closer to the platform.

"You used me," said Krum between clenched teeth. He was holding his wand so tightly that his knuckles were white.

"Viktor, you and I know that the end justifies the means. This is Durmstrang, not Hogwarts," the man said sneeringly. A took a step higher on a flat rock so that he could overlook at all on them, and the only sound in the stadium was the shuffling of his cloak. He was obviously very accustomed to moving in this surrounding.

"We're amongst adults here," he continued for all to hear, as though he was making a speech. "We're all trying to make the world better. Those who die in the process will be remembered for their sacrifice."

"An entire school of Slytherins," Ron sniggered. Then he added in a lower voice: "We're ready when you are, mate."

With a rapid glance, Harry saw that Ron, Hermione and Ginny were aiming their wands at the other approaching figures that were still hiding behind the rocks but very close.

Krum seemed to be monopolising the attention of the black-haired man, which was actually a good opportunity to strike. However, Harry was hesitant. He wanted to know more about this man first.

"Durmstrang has changed," Krum was saying. "Vatever your plan, it's not going to vork. People will resist and fight back."

"No, they won't; not when they see what I can offer," the other man replied in a rich and full voice.

"Ve have hope now," Krum retorted convincingly. "There is no place for another Dark Lord."

"Ha! Here we are!" the black figure cried out forcefully.

The other orange lights had gathered in semi-circle around the platform now and Harry could see the shape of a second opponent while four others were still hiding behind the rocks. He was hooded, very tall, and his wand was pointing straight at Krum. However, the Bulgarian Seeker seemed to be focusing only on the one he had called 'professor'.

"Harry Potter! Dumbledore's Knight! Is that what you call hope, Viktor?" laughed the strong man. "What if he is the one to bring forth the new order? What will the people say then?"

"Never!" Krum cried out, and Harry was almost shocked at how convinced he sounded. Even Ginny glanced sideways at Viktor and her face turned slightly pink.

"But you haven't done anything yet, and we're here to stop you," Hermione cut in, unable to contain herself any longer. She was red with anger. "You don't know who you're dealing with. We're Dumbledore's Army! There are more of us out there. If we don't stop you, others will. They know where we are and what we're doing. The Aurors have probably tripled the guard around the Archway by now. In case you haven't noticed, a lot of people will stand by Harry Potter no matter what. I bet this wasn't a part of your plan, nor Voldermort's downfall!"

She had said the whole thing in one breath, pushing her voice as loud as she could without screaming. Harry had to marvel at her boldness yet again and at her ability to lie on the spot.

But the strong, black-haired man in front of them did not seem impressed at all.

"As a matter of fact, it makes things easier, Miss Granger," he said with a grin. "The Dark Lord's demise is unfortunate, but not irreparable. Consider what he will reward me, when I bring him back from the World of the Dead."


	23. Chapter 23

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-three

During a split second, Harry was back at the train station, in a state between living and dead, with the writhing creature curled up in a corner, seeing it, yet being unable to stare at it. It wasn't even a person anymore. It was a broken body; the leftovers of something that had once been human. It was all that was left of Voldemort's soul.

His thought came back to the platform in a flash as he heard Ron gasp. Both he and Hermione had gone quite white.

"Nothing can bring back Voldemort. He's not just dead; he's destroyed," Harry said forcefully, and a part of that fact was addressed to his friends as well. They had a right to fear; they had not seen the wrecked being that Voldemort had become in that world between life and death.

"Perhaps he is destroyed, Potter. You'll just have to deal it out with the Lord of the Underworld then, won't you?" the strong man retorted with a twisted smile.

"Don't count on it!" Ginny cut in before Harry could reply. Her wand was high and steady in her hand, but there was also fire in her eyes.

As soon as she had finished her sentence, three of the other men who were hiding behind the black rocks came out, their wands directed at the platform. They were muttering in a foreign tongue, probably Bulgarian, and they looked as athletic and as imposing as their master.

"My dear child," he sneered, nodding in acknowledgment to the armed men standing on each of his sides, "I believe I have exactly what I need to motivate Mr Potter to do what he must. Don't you agree, Mr Slughorn?"

Slowly, the last hiding figure, the one on Harry's left, came into view and Harry immediately felt sorry for the Head of Slytherin House. His grey shirt was covered in long circles of sweat and his right cheek was swollen. He seemed to be having difficulty breathing; he was wheezing. There was a trace of red blood in his walrus moustache. He looked a lot older and weaker then when Harry had last seen him. He was the only person present without a wand, and his whole body seemed abnormally rigid and stiff as though a Body-Bind Curse was the only thing keeping him in a standing position.

"Ah, yes," snorted the strong man. "_Finite Incantatem_."

Slughorn's legs wobbled and almost gave out and the old professor had to grab hold of a nearby rock to remain standing. One of the men holding his wand directed at the platform muttered something like 'pathetic' under his breath and sneered loudly.

"Mr Slughorn's condition can be explained by his recent change of heart. He doesn't quite agree with parts of our plan," said the master in a tone that was almost mocking. "An unfortunate turn of event, but one we can live with. You were happy to nose around, though, weren't you, Horace?"

"Happy?" the old Hogwarts professor said between two intakes of breath. "I had hope! That's what kept me going. That's how I was able to live with myself."

He stopped, short of breath. His hand was grasping at his chest like a man who is about to have a stroke, yet he was still standing. Harry thought bitterly that Slughorn presented an easy target for their opponent and his men, given the old professor's weakened state and the absence of his wand. From the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione shift impatiently on her feet. He knew that she wanted to act and get Slughorn out of the hands of these dangerous people, but Harry had a feeling that their position was too risky to attempt anything just yet, not without endangering the Potions master.

"It's going to be all right, professor," Hermione said with deep concern. "We understand why you did it…"

"The Resurrection Stone; that's all he told me they were after!" Slughorn said, cutting her off. He turned to the people on the platform. Suddenly ignoring his captors' wands and powerful built, he took an unsteady step closer to Harry. "They promised me I would be allowed to use it to bring her back. Helen! It's been so long… and I still miss her every day of my life! For years I searched high and low for the Resurrection Stone, and he told me where to find it. He said that was how you survived the Killing Curse; that you were protected by the Deathly Hallows, a fact that you proved, Harry, by going back to the clearing with the Centaur. All that I had to do was to get the Resurrection Stone from you, find out where you had hid it. But then, you showed me the Elder Wand, the most powerful of the Three, and the possibilities… In that short moment, I was seduced."

Ginny's eyes went wide with understanding.

"You shot Harry! The arrow; it was you!"

Slughorn bent his head down so as not to stare into Ginny's accusing gaze. Harry could not quite believe it. After all, Horace Slughorn had been a friend of Dumbledore's. He could never have hurt a Hogwarts student, not on purpose.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but I did. I was blinded by greed, you see. You showed me such power; I thought of acquiring it without further delay. With the Elder Wand, I would have been stronger than all the Triskelions. I wanted it so badly that in that moment that I almost forgot about Helen. But I could not get pass your Shield Charm when you reached the limit of the forest, so instead I decided to shoot you, then cure you, and use your wound as an excuse to visit the Weasley's house. My plan worked. I searched the Burrow briefly, but unsuccessfully, and in my haste to acquire the Hallows, I even raised suspicions among you and your friends. I knew I had to return to the Triskelions with something, so I caught one of Dumbledore's _Destina Nobilis_ books on my way out. It convinced them that I was doing the right thing by searching Mr Weasley and Miss Granger, because you confide in your closest friends. I knew you would trust them with something as important, even choose them as bearers. However, there was nothing at Miss Granger's house resembling either one of the three objects. The Hallows had to be at the Burrow, but that place is difficult to search with so many people there, so the Dementors were called in."

He stopped again, out of breath, his face blood red and sweat pearling on his forehead. Whatever they had done to him, Harry thought, it might be killing him slowly just because of his old age.

"How dare you send Dementors to my house," Ginny said accusingly. "Dumbledore would be ashamed of you!"

"I was against it, I assure you. If Harry hadn't conjured up the Triskelions' mark, the Dementors would have done their job. There were about a hundred above the house, and a hundred more on the way. No Patronus could have held that many off. They were going to kill you all."

"You were going to let it happen?" said Ron. He seemed unsure whether he should feel anger or pity.

"They didn't give him a choice," Hermione breathed out, her worried look still resting upon the weak form of the Potions master with almost motherly concern.

Ron seemed at a lost for words and Harry had a feeling that he was going to burst out "But you're a Hogwarts teacher!" at any moment. However, Hermione's sympathetic attitude towards Slughorn seemed to be holding Ron back.

"Vat about Mr Lovegood? Vat did you do to him?" Krum cut in.

"I only asked him for information on the Hallows. He became a liability, so they decided to blame the Dementors' attack at the Burrow on him. What they did to him… I didn't know it would come to that."

Slughorn was leaning heavily on a rock and his whole body seemed to be shaking. One of his captors took two rapid steps closer to him, his wand pointing directly at the Hogwarts professor's throat. Harry had the reflex to raise his wand, though it was still invisible, and he almost said '_Expelliarmus_', but the master of the Triskelions shouted something forceful in Bulgarian that made his companion withdraw his wand unhappily.

"Leave him alone! Haven't you caused him enough pain already?" Hermione yelled suddenly. Red sparks were flying out of her wand. Harry silently wondered how much longer she could hold off with her temper as high as it was.

"I'm not a bad man, Miss Granger. I don't hurt people for the fun of it; I needed to know if Mr Slughorn's was still one of us. Clearly, he isn't. Nevertheless, I'm not going to kill him. I believe he has yet a part to play; I'm sure he can convince Potter to be reasonable."

"_I won't_."

Slughorn's voice was only a whisper now, but his answer was clear and final. However, the master did not seem impressed and he replied in a sweet, almost condescending voice.

"Horace, my friend, don't be so blunt. We haven't talked about your repayment. When Potter has no more need for the Hallows, when he has done the deed, he will return from the Archway and the Stone will be yours. Your sufferings shall be rewarded. You will see Helen again."

"Don't believe him, professor!" Hermione burst out. She had taken one step forward and Harry had to grab her arm to hold her back. "Hermione, _not yet_," he whispered to her ear.

"It's all right, Miss Granger," said Slughorn a little more loudly. He was straightening his back in an attempt to stand up to his adversaries. "I know what I've gotten myself into. This is where it ends for me, Karl."

Turning his back to Harry and the others, Slughorn raised the hand that had been clutching his chest and in it there was a tiny phial, gold and glittering in the light of the Duelling Stadium. All eyes were instantly drawn to it. For a moment, Harry was staring at it as well, but then his eyes caught something else. Behind his back, invisible to their opponents, Slughorn's finger was pointing to the right. Harry immediately followed the imaginary line, but there were only more black rocks in that direction, and the waterfall a little further off than Harry could see.

"What is it, Horace? Poison?" laughed the man now identified as Karl.

"No," Slughorn replied softly. "Sunlight."

As soon as he said this, he released the phial, but it did not fall to the ground. Instead, it floated by itself for one or two seconds, and then it shot upwards at incredible speed until it was so high that it could not been seen anymore. Hermione shouted "Down!" and Harry barely had time to throw himself on the ground. A great outburst of light and heat took over the entire stadium like a bomb. Everything became white at once and the air hot and heavy. Harry shot his eyes momentarily, but when he opened them, it was still impossible to distinguish anything from his surroundings.

Someone bumped into him.

"Harry! Can you get to professor Slughorn?"

It was Hermione, but it felt to Harry as though she was crouching down, not lying flat on her belly like he was.

"I can't see anything," he replied quickly.

He could already feel his skin damp with sweat. The air was so hot that it was hard to breath. It was like being caught in a fire, but without the flames.

"You have the Elder Wand, Harry! Try something! Legilimency, maybe. You could guide yourself with his thoughts."

"All right, all right!" he said a little irritably. Getting into a standing position, he held the Elder Wand in front of him and said "_Legilimens_!" while focussing his thoughts on Horace Slughorn.

The result was like being hit by a wave. The force of it threw him off balance and he was soon tumbling down the stairs. He landed awkwardly on his back on the black rock surface. And then unfamiliar images started to spill into his head and he instantly knew that he had done the right thing by thinking about his Potions master while saying the spell. The images he was seeing were clearly from the old professor's life.

It was like watching a movie through murky glasses. He saw the body of a woman fall backwards and the white fabric of her dress rapidly getting soaked with blood. He saw a much younger Slughorn running in a green field, tripping and falling, screaming as he ran towards the woman who lay dying. He watched Slughorn cast a feeble curse and heard Grindelwald's cruel laugh. Grindelwald was like a shadow that grew dim and disappeared. Then he saw the Great Hall at Hogwarts and Dumbledore sitting in the Headmaster's chair, leaning to his right to whisper in the ear of the Potions master. The background changed and Dumbledore was suddenly much younger, his hair brown and untidy, his robes black and white; he was walking behind a group of Dementors that were escorting a howling Grindelwald through the doors of Nurmengard. The image changed rapidly to that of the door of Mrs Lovegood's tomb, and Mr Lovegood turning his back to his worktable in his laboratory, and professor Slughorn seizing a long piece of parchment on which the words 'potential Triskelions' were written. Slughorn was erasing his name with the tip of his wand. A woman's smiling face popped into Harry's mind, her blond hair blowing in the wind, her white dress no longer tinted with red blood. Her voice came like an echo. She was saying 'Are you sure you're a Slytherin, Horace?' over and over again with an amused sort of laugh. Then all became black and he felt like his head would explode if he didn't find a way to end the mind-reading spell.

"Potter! POTTER!" said a voice that was like in his head and close to his ear all at once.

He felt his right shoulder being shaken.

"Get up! You have to get yourself out of here, do you hear?"

Harry's eyes snapped opened and he realised that the blinding brightness had slightly decreased. He could see the person in front of him. Slughorn's face looked worst from up close. His cheek was badly beaten up and swollen.

"You're a poor Legilimens; don't do it again, Potter. You're lucky I'm a good Occlumens and I was able to shut you out. Now get up."

Harry got to his feet at once, but it was weird being told to get up by a man who looked like he would never be able to get off the floor himself. Slughorn's breathing was coarse. He seemed to be struggling at every intake. It wasn't going to be easy to make their way out in the blinding light and suffocating heat. Harry immediately thought of the Elder Wand. Perhaps he could transport them both out of the stadium as he had done at the Burrow. But what about Ginny, Ron, Hermione and Krum?

"Come on, professor! We've got to regroup with the others and get out of here," he said imperatively.

He grabbed on to Slughorn's arm and started to pull him forward, but the old professor wasn't bulging.

"Not that way, you silly boy! The waterfall! That's what I was pointing at. There's a secret passageway behind it. But you have to go through the water, not around it."

Harry wheeled around to stare in the other direction, but he really couldn't see anything in the bright light. Moreover, he realised, he couldn't hear anything either. It was like he was caught off from everybody else, except Slughorn.

"How am I going to find it?" he asked, a little abashed. "And where is everybody else?"

"Hopefully, Mr Krum has already led your friends through the passageway. You know how to use your wand as a compass, don't you, Potter?"

"Yes, but…"

"Then head North-East and you will find it. I'm going to give you two minutes head-start and then I'll suck up all the Sunlight back into its phial and you will loose all cover."

Harry understood immediately what this meant.

"You're not coming."

"I've got a lot to make up for, Potter. I'm not particularly proud of myself."

He paused to take a long breathe of hot air and Harry could hear him wheezing.

"This is not the time for it, professor. You're in no shape to…"

"No shape?" Slughorn laughed, cutting him off with a nudge on the shoulder. "I've taken some of Fred and George Weasley's Heart Stroke Gummies. I must say that the illusion is convincing, however the effect won't last much longer. You're forgetting that there's more to being a Potions Master than mixing and brewing. Well, this is where we part, Potter. I'm going to get them off your back while you escape."

He extended his hand and Harry felt awkward to shake it. The action that Slughorn seemed prepared to take seemed close to suicide. Yet Harry knew that he could never convince the professor to choose otherwise. Time was running short, and he wanted to find out if Ginny and the others were all right.

After shaking Harry's hand, Horace Slughorn turned his back to his former student and he was soon swallowed in the bright white light. Harry was left on his own with no sound except his own shallow breathing. It was unbearably hot, like being caught in a building on fire.

Placing the Elder Wand in the palm of his hand, he focused his mind on making the wand visible, and then he whispered 'Point me'. The wand seemed to know where he was aiming for. As he walked in the direction of North-East, the wand in his hand seemed to be almost pulling him. Only it was difficult to make his way through the razor-sharp rocks.

Then, all of a sudden, he saw something huge and even brighter than Slughorn's Sunlight, gliding towards him. He had to wipe the seat from his eyes to see what it was. It was a bird made of silvery light, and the figure following close behind it had red, flamboyant hair.

"Ginny!" he yelled.

Ginny's phoenix-shaped Patronus reached him first and he had only a few seconds to appreciate its form. It was a copy of Fawkes, except for its silver color. When it faded, Harry found himself face to face with Ginny. Her hair was sticking to her forehead with sweat, and she had a small cut on her left cheek. She didn't take time to greet him. Her wand was firmly in her hand, ready to cast a spell at any moment.

"They're close," she said rapidly. "Where's Slughorn?"

"Buying us time," he replied.

"The waterfall is blocked, but Ron and Hermione got through it. Viktor is fighting the Duelling Master right in front of the entrance. We'll have to find another way out."

Without much further explanation, she took Harry's arm and started to pull him further towards what Harry guessed was North-West.

"How do you know which way to go?" he said to her as the trudged on. "I can't see anything in this light!"

Without slowing her pace, she held her wand steadily in front of her and said '_Expecto Patronum!_' as if she was fighting off a hundred Dementors. The huge silver phoenix emerged from the tip of her wand and started to fly in front of them like a beacon.

"Viktor told me there's another passageway behind the stairs of the West platform. But there's a good chance we'll run into some of them, so keep your wand ready."

There was such self-assurance in her tone, that Harry could not do otherwise than to follow her.

"Ginny, we don't have much time until we loose the cover of Slughorn's Sunlight."

"How long?" she said, glancing back at him.

As soon as she had finished her sentence, they felt a draft of cool air blowing in their backs. It soon became a wind, swirling around them. The bright light produced by Slughorn's potion seemed to be moving with the storm as though it was a part of it. The brightness was being lifted off the ground like a veil, and Harry saw with a gasp two pairs of feet at arm's length from where they were standing.

He grabbed Ginny's arm as quickly as he could and brought her as close to him as possible. Then he focused his thoughts on the Elder Wand and he tried to visualise the view from the first platform they had seem upon entering in the stadium for the first time. He felt the familiar rush of cold take hold of his body, and he felt more than saw the blackness surround Ginny and him. Ginny was shivering, but she said nothing. The last thing that Harry saw was two tall and hooded figures dissolving into mist, and Ginny's red hair blowing in the black smoke around them.


	24. Chapter 24

Note from the author: Sorry for the long, long delay. My three month-old baby boy (named Harry!) is taking a lot of my spare time! Another new chapter should be posted shortly. Thanks for reading!

HighEmpress

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-four

Harry's feet hit the wooden landing with a heavy thud. He felt as though he was submerged in icy water. Ginny's body clinging to his was the only source of warmth that he could sense. His chest was throbbing like an opened wound. All that he could see around him was the revolving black smoke and Ginny's blowing red hair. They had reached the high platform and the hidden stairway from where they had arrived was probably just behind them, but somehow the cold and the smoke would not dissipate and he could hardly make out his surroundings through the fog.

"Harry, what's happening?" Ginny said in a weak voice.

"I… I can't make it stop."

He was shivering with cold and his right-hand fingers were frozen on the Elder Wand.

"I trust you," she said. "You can do it."

Reaching up to his face with both hands, she kissed him amongst the swirling shadows and the misty darkness. Part of the thick veil around them seemed to lift for a brief moment and Harry saw the white and gold marble wall of the stadium in front of him. However, the moment did not last. Another wave of cold hit him and this time he tried to resist it. He did not want to disappear again, yet some invisible force was pulling him away. It was a battle of will; his strength of mind against the power of the Elder Wand. Wherever the Wand wanted to take him, it was going to succeed. Harry could feel his strength failing. He was cold and tired and weary.

But Ginny was being dragged along with him, and he couldn't let that happen.

He had barely enough strength left in his numb limbs, but in a desperate effort he managed to break Ginny's clasp around his neck and to push her away, out of the dark smoke.

She fell on the platform with a screeching sound.

"Harry, no! Don't do this! Don't let go!" she cried out immediately, realising what he had done.

He couldn't reply anything. The Elder Wand was shaking in his hand, pulling on his mind, making it harder and harder to resist. If he allowed it, he would slip into nothingness, into the world of the dead perhaps, and it would be easy, so easy…

Something bright and silvery seemed to be dissipating the smoke and he saw the outline of Ginny's Patronus through the mist. Her wand was pointing steadily in front of her; she was using her silver phoenix to scatter the darkness around him. For a short moment, Harry had the feeling that her tactic was going to work, but that feeling did not last. He had no strength left to fight the power of the Wand, and Ginny's phoenix could not brake through the blackness around him.

"Harry, please, what can I do? Tell me," Ginny said compellingly. "Don't leave me alone. Tell me what to do!"

He caught a glimpse of her face through the shadows and saw that she wasn't crying. Instead, her eyes were fixed, resolute. And at that moment, he knew that he loved her. He knew that he needed her strength; he needed to be with her. They were going to live a long life and have a family. They would have a home. They would have a lot of happy memories together. He had survived so much already, he could hang on a bit longer for that.

"Disarm me," he said without further thought.

"_What_?"

"Disarm me, Ginny! It's the only way. You know the spell. Make it strong. Do it like you mean it."

He didn't have to say 'trust me'. The second later, he heard her shout '_Expelliarmus_!' and saw a line of bright red light reach him through the darkness. The spell went straight for his right hand and hit its target with powerful shock.

As soon as the Elder Wand flew into the air, Harry felt his mind and body being released from its hold. His knees hit the landing, and he felt the cold and the pain on his chest leaving him, yet he felt weaker than before.

"What should I do with it?"

Harry looked up to see Ginny, white faced and firmly holding the Elder Wand in her right hand. There was no black smoke around them anymore, and Harry thought he even saw a faint white glow pass like a gush of wind going from the Wand and into Ginny's hand and then her whole body. Could he have imagined it? Had he really passed on the Wand to a new master?

Ginny was looking at him with eyes full of questions, yet she seemed unafraid.

"_The wand chooses the wizard_," he said under his breath, remembering the phrase from a long time ago, like words out of a forgotten dream.

"Harry," Ginny said worriedly, "you look…"

She couldn't finish her sentence. Without any warning, a blazing red light hit the wall behind Harry with a deafening sound and then, ricocheting on the white marble, it knock down Ginny, hitting her on the chest. She fell back on the impact and her head hit the landing with a heavy thud.

"GINNY!" Harry cried out hysterically.

He tried to stand, but he soon found that his entire body was shivering. His limbs would not respond properly. He felt sick and dizzy, and he had the distinct impression that if he tried moving too fast, he would certainly faint.

"He's here! Potter!" bellowed a masculine voice that could only be coming from below the platform, although Harry could not see the speaker.

For a second, Harry thought frightfully that he was wandless, the Elder Wand being nowhere in sight, and then he remembered his old phoenix-cored wand in his back pocket. Pulling it out with his numb fingers, he held it in front of him and muttered "_Protego_!" just in time as two blazing curses came crashing down on him from attackers he could not see. A green and a red light hit his magical shield with a force that Harry felt throughout his whole right arm.

"Don't kill him!" said the first hooded figure that Harry saw appear on the landing.

It was the tallest of the Triskelion. A few steps behind was the one who had threatened to kill Slughorn.

Harry had managed to stand up and keep his Shield Charm safely in front of him, but he knew that, given his present state, these two men could take him on quite easily. He was shivering as though he had a fever, and he felt weaker than if he had been fighting a hundred Dementors.

"What's wrong Potter? Did Karl get you first? He can do nasty things, that Karl," laughed the first of the two men. "I expect he's already caught your friends Weasley and Granger."

"Let me just kill him, Draganov," said the tall Triskelion. "He destroyed the Dark Lord; he deserves no less. Let's do it now."

He raised his wand towards Harry with revenge in his eyes, but the other man put a compelling hand on his forearm and said: "Calm down, Boris, my friend. Remember our oath to Grindelwald. We need Potter alive."

The one called Draganov had stopped besides Ginny's unconscious form and was now gazing at her silently. Suddenly, he bowed down and picked up something from Ginny's clothes.

"Another Weasley! I didn't know they could make girls," he said slyly, holding Ginny's brooch in the palm of his hand. "One of the oldest pure-blood families. Descendants of Godric Gryffindor. Not a bad choice for you, Potter. Marrying her might lessen the insult to Wizarding kind that is your Mudblood mother."

"And what makes _you_ so much better, I wonder," Harry started to say, but the effort to stand up straight made him sway on the spot and his Shield wavered.

Taking a long breath, he tried to control his shivering arms and he grasped his phoenix wand with both hands. As he did so, the other man, the one called Boris, took a long stride over Ginny's unconscious form and came face to face with Harry, only an inch away from the Shield he was trying so hard to maintain. The Triskelion was pointing his wand directly at Harry's head and on his face there was a wide, sneering smile.

"Can I have just a little bit of fun first, before we hand him over to Karl?" he said, twisting his wand between his fingers menacingly.

"Really, there's no need, Boris," said the first man who was now holding Ginny's brooch with contentment. "Potter will cooperate now that we have the girl. He will follow us without a fuss."

Glancing from one man to the other, Harry decided that it was better not to provoke any confrontation at the moment. He was in no condition to engage in a dual or fight, and his opponents were more experienced and also more powerfully built.

"Fine", he declared as convincingly as he could. "But I want to make sure she's all right first."

Draganov nodded and Harry started slowly around the second man, Boris, who was still smiling at him mockingly. While he walked with careful steps, Harry tried to recall all the spells he knew to find one that would allow him to protect Ginny and possibly take her away as soon as he reached her. Hermione could create a Portkey, but he couldn't. Disapparition was impossible inside the Stadium or on Durmstrang ground for that matter. He didn't have the Cloak. He didn't have anything except his wand.

As he thought this, his right foot hit something on the landing which rolled a short way and fell through the cracks on the wooden deck. _Ginny's wand_, Harry thought. Glancing quickly at Ginny's motionless body, he spotted another wand in her hand. Somehow, she had managed to hold on to the Elder Wand. If he could just grab it, maybe he would be able to brake through the Anti-Disapparition jinxes as he had done before with the black smoke, and then he could save them both; that is, if Peverell's wand would still obey him. It was worth a try.

"You! Hold it right there, we've got it covered," said Draganov all of a sudden. And then he repeated the same thing in what Harry guessed was Bulgarian.

Harry turned around to see a third Triskelion climbing up the last steps unto the platform. He was wearing a black hood over his eyes, but his shape seemed slightly familiar. He did not stop as he had been told, but continued until he was well on the landing.

Draganov said something imperative in Bulgarian, which made the newly arrived Triskelion stop where he was, though he hardly seemed intimidated by the presence of the other two Triskelions. He raised his chin slightly and Harry almost saw his face, but then his glance turned downward and it fell on Ginny who was moaning weakly and beginning to stir.

"Oh, it's _you_," said Draganov, staring at the newly arrived Triskelion. "I don't think we need you. Potter is not going anywhere as long as we're holding _her_."

Harry heard the third Triskelion mutter a low "yes, sir" in reply.

"Boris will take the girl to Karl," said Draganov. "You and I will handle Potter."

"Just let me see if she's all right," Harry said again, a little more pressingly. This might be his last chance to get to Ginny and the Elder Wand.

Draganov sighed impatiently. "Stay there! She's alive. You want her to remain this way, then hand over your wand, Potter. Otherwise, I'm going to have to Stun you, and you look half-Stunned already."

"_Harry_."

Ginny was opening her eyes. As soon as she saw the tall, smiling man bending over her, she tried to wheel around to escape him. But he was much quicker. He shouted "_Incarcerate_!" and magical bonds appeared, winding around her like tentacles, paralysing her arms, making it impossible for her to use the Elder Wand that she was still holding. Then he grabbed her by a shoulder and put his other arm around her neck, holding her up. Harry saw with horror that blood was trickling down the side of her head. She now had a wand pointing at her cheek and she could hardly move.

"Don't hurt her!" Harry cried in alarm.

"Harry, just get out of here!" Ginny said, struggling forcefully.

"It's your decision, Potter," the first man said. Then, turning to his companion, he added: "Take her away, now!"

Before Harry even had time to react, another loud voice shouted "_Expelliarmus_!" Boris was almost knocked off his feet by surprise, but he managed to redirect the curse straight at the wall with a twist of his wrist, while still keeping a firm grip on Ginny. Draganov wheeled around and cast a Stunning Spell at the third Triskelion whose hood slipped from his head as the jet of red light missed his left ear by an inch.

"Krum!" laughed Draganov. "This is a bold move, even for you."

"I von't let you take her," he said forcefully, pointing his wand at Draganov.

"You're too late, Krum," Boris cackled viciously.

He did a tricky movement with his wand and suddenly, a blazing red light was around him and Ginny, and the both of them were sent spinning madly across the Stadium followed by a trail of cracking red sparks like fireworks. They landed on the opposite platform and quickly disappeared through a concealed doorway.

"No!" Harry and Krum cried out at once.

Krum ran towards the banister, but there was nothing he could do. He mumbled a feeble '_Accio'_ that had no effect at all. Then he cursed loudly in Bulgarian.

But Draganov was not going to waste such a perfect moment. He raised his wand in Krum's direction and on his lips Harry saw the first syllables of a spell he knew all too well.

"_Avada_…!"

"_Stupefy_!" Harry shouted with all his might.

But his hand was still shaking. The Stunning Spell hit the Triskelion on the right shoulder, but barely; the shock threw Draganov off balance and the Killing Curse aimed at Krum missed only by an inch. The Bulgarian Seeker wheeled around, returning his attention to where he was, and he took a position that Harry recognised at once as one that Lockhart had tried to teach them.

"What are you looking for, Krum? A Duel?" laughed Draganov. "You're still an amateur by any reckoning. You're only good to teach teenagers how to hold their wands properly. You wouldn't last two seconds in a real…"

"_Stupefy_!" Krum yelled.

His spell flew pass the Triskelion's right ear, and for a second, Harry thought that Krum's aim had been very poor, but the spell hit the marble wall and ricocheted on it like a glass. A second later it came crashing down on the Triskelion from behind. The tall man barely had time to turn around and stop the jet of red light with a kind of shield that Harry had never seen before.

"Not nearly good enough, Krum," the Triskelion laughed again. "But if this is what you want…"

Without finishing his sentence, he raised his wand high and sent a powerful curse in Krum's direction, without uttering a word. Krum tried to duck, but he could not avoid the wave of blue-grey light even when he cried "_Protego_!" Tiny darts pierced through his shield and hit him like a hundred small knives. Drops of blood fell on the wooden platform, but Krum was still standing.

"_Sectumsempra_!" Harry shouted in Draganov's direction, remembering the spell he had once used on Draco Malfoy.

But Draganov, it seemed, had anticipated a response from Harry's part. He cast a spell quickly over his shoulder and Harry's curse was sent ricocheting back at him as though it had hit a wall. Harry ducked down and rolled on his side. The spell missed him, but only just. Then Harry, holding his phoenix wand firmly, pointed it at the Triskelion and shouted "_Expelliarmus_!" almost instinctively.

However, the spell had no effect on the Triskelion at all.

"_Expelliarmus_? Don't you Hogwarts-people learn anything else? I think I'll take this opportunity to show you a few spells, Potter."

The exchange of magic charms that followed was the fastest and most deadly that Harry had ever taken part in. Draganov kept aiming Killing Curses at Krum and various harmful curses at Harry at incredible speed. Krum's replies were fast and impressive. He seemed to be everywhere at once, protecting Harry and himself with a number of hexes that Harry didn't even recognise. Yet not once did he utter any of the Unforgivable Curses. Harry, for his part, tried to fight back as best as he could. His spells were incredibly shaky and he even felt short of breath. He wanted to escape, not to fight. He wanted to jump over that banister and run across the Stadium to the spot where Ginny and the Triskelion had disappeared. However, the voice of reason in his head kept telling him that Ginny was probably far from Durmstrang by now.

A jet of green light missed Krum's head by an inch. The Bulgarian Seeker was now standing by Harry's side after a series of ducks and rolls. They both had their backs to the hidden passageway.

"Get out of here, Harry," Krum said between two spells.

"No!" Harry yelled without second thought.

Krum caught the back of Harry's neck and pulled him down just in time to avoid a jet of green light from colliding with Harry's head.

"You're not helping me, Potter," Krum said between gritted teeth.

The Bulgarian diverted another curse and this time his opponent momentarily lost his balance and stumbled backwards into the half-destroyed banister.

"This is your chance, Potter. Go!"

It happened so fast that Harry hardly knew how Viktor Krum, best Seeker in the world, but slightly duck-footed on the ground floor, managed to pull him to his feet and toss him into the small opening behind the black curtain while throwing a series of spells at the crumbling Triskelion. Before he could realise what had just happened, Harry was already halfway up the narrow steps that led to the Durmstrang Great Hall. Curses were being shouted and words in Bulgarian, but from the sound of it Krum seemed to have taken the fight away from the secret passageway in which Harry was now laying, crouching on the stairs and shaking, and feeling awkward, useless and empty.


	25. Chapter 25

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-five

Harry clambered up the stairs with difficulty. A part of him wanted to go back to Viktor Krum's side and rejoin the battle, even though he knew that in his present physical condition he would be more of a liability to Krum. The other part of him, disproportionate to his desire to fight, was his want to pursue Ginny's kidnapper. However, his reason was telling him that she ought to be far from reach by now.

As he climbed step after step in the dark narrow corridor, he kept replaying the events in his mind: the black smoke that took him and Ginny back unto the first platform, Ginny disarming him, Ginny holding the Elder Wand, the red light hitting her from the back, the Triskelion standing over Ginny's unconscious form and twiddling with her Weasley brooch, Ginny tied in magical ropes, Krum's hood slipping to reveal his face, and then Ginny soaring out of sight. How could he have let this happen?

"Harry, is that you?" said a voice through the dark.

It took his brain a few seconds to realise who the speaker was.

"Hermione!"

She was standing just a few steps ahead of him, half-concealed in the darkness, her wand held aloft.

"Hold it! What was Professor Snapes' Patronus?"

"A doe, like my mum's," he replied hastily, not even bothering to stop his ascend.

"I had to make sure it was you," Hermione apologised as she helped him through the entrance of the secret staircase.

As Harry glanced around he was glad to see that the Great Hall was completely empty except for him, Hermione and Ron who was standing next to the four golden statues with his rucksack tightly under his left arm and his wand in his right hand. There was a red and swollen bruise on the side of Ron's nose.

"All right, mate?" Ron asked mechanically.

Hermione did not wait for Harry's reply.

"Viktor said to regroup in the Great Hall, and not to hang around for him. Where's Ginny?"

Harry couldn't contain his emotions.

"They've taken her. We've got… We've got to go back!"

There was a short moment of silence during which Ron grew paler, if possible, but neither he nor Hermione were making a move.

"Come on! We've got to go after her! They can still be in the city," Harry shouted imperatively, trying to sound in charge and not hysterical.

Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance.

"What's got into you two?" Harry shrilled at them.

"Well, they're not going to kill her, are they?" said Ron reasonably. "I mean, they need her as a hostage, don't they?"

"What? Leave her? I can't… I'm not going to let her be a hostage, Ron. That's just out of the question."

But Ron remained, in Harry's opinion, unusually level-headed.

"It'll be a lot worst if they catch you, mate," he said. "I reckon they expect you to come after her."

"Ron's right, Harry. Listen to what you're saying. She's probably far from here by now. You'll just be throwing yourself back at them. We've got to think this through. We should regroup like Viktor said, and then we can come up with a plan."

"No!" Harry shouted and his voice echoed on the polished floor.

He was furious. How could his two best friends not understand how important this was? Ginny was Ron's sister. Years ago, Ron had followed Harry down into the Chamber of Secrets, a terrifying place, in order to save her. This situation wasn't any different to Harry. He was going to save her again, and in his mind there was no time for planning.

"Harry, if you rush into this you'll get yourself killed or worst. You've got to calm down and…"

"_What_?" he cut in abruptly. "Come with you? Do as Viktor says? You don't trust me anymore, is that it? You think I've been corrupted by the Deathly Hallows."

He was so mad at them that words were pouring out of his mouth faster than he could think.

"No, Harry, we've been through this. You _know_ we don't think that," Hermione burst out, sounding a little annoyed.

Ron, who had moved next to Hermione now, placed his hand on Harry's shoulder in an almost fatherly way.

"You're not corrupted, mate. You're exhausted and you definitely need a break and you're in love with my sister for some reason, but you're not turning evil or anything like that. You're a bit mental, but you've always been so I'm not worried about that. Now, can we just get out of here?"

For a fleeting moment, Harry felt like throwing off Ron's hand and running as fast as possible towards the exit, but then, seeing his friends so close to each other, he was reminded of Ron's distress and rage when Hermione had been taken. Ron really _knew_ what Harry was going through. An understanding passed between them and Harry muttered a feeble "Yeah, let's get out of here". He thought that he heard Hermione sigh and whisper something to herself while he turned to the task at hand.

They were still standing at the far end of the Great Hall. It was very quiet except for their voices. The light was dim and no shadows were moving. It was so still that it was hard to believe the battle that was taking place in the Duelling Stadium.

"What do you reckon?" Ron said, following Harry's glance towards the only visible exit. "We could make a run for it."

"Viktor didn't happen to mention a back door, did he?" Harry whispered to Hermione.

She shook her head.

"The Cloak?" Ron asked.

"That would tell them where it is," Hermione replied hastily.

"Let's go through the front door, then, but keep your wands handy."

Following Harry's lead, the three of them started at a fast pace towards the entrance. They were not halfway there when Harry noticed a shape on at the other end of the Hall, which had been absent before. Ron and Hermione seemed to notice it too because they slowed down and came to a stop next to Harry.

"What is that?"

But to Harry, the answer was obvious.

"Ginny!"

He started to run as he said her name. He could hear his feet echo on the marble floor as they had in the Chamber of Secrets. As he got closer, Ginny's unconscious form became clearer. The words on Harry's mind were, for the second time in his life, "Please, doesn't be dead."

And then he was hit by a spell and fell hard on his back. Before he even knew what had happened, the Triskelion Karl was looking down on him with a contemptuous smile.

"Sorry, but she isn't here, Potter."

Pointing his wand in the direction where Ginny's body was, he gave a little wave and the image disappeared as though it had been only a recording of her, like a hologram. Harry felt as though he had just been stung. How could he have been so stupid?

"No, you two stay where you are," the Triskelion cried out to Ron and Hermione. His wand was now pointing between Harry's eyes. "If you try anything, I'll put another scar on his forehead."

"Where is she?" Harry asked bluntly.

"Don't worry, Potter. I'm keeping her warm for you. I'm going to offer you a deal so listen carefully. You have five hours, by which time you will show up in front of the Archway of the Dead. I'm sure you know where it is. There, you will walk through the Arch and do what we require of you. You will negotiate the return of Grindelwald and Lord Voldemort. Miss Weasley's life will be spared if and only if you can make this bargain. If you're a coward and you don't show up, she will die. If you try to be smart and attempt to defeat us, she will die. If you step through the Gate and you do not return, she will die. Do I make myself clear?"

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The spell had been Hermione's. It caught the Triskelion unawares as it hit his right hand. Unfortunately, he managed to retain hold of his wand. But Harry immediately saw the change in his eyes. Hermione's bold move had made the strong man very angry.

"Silly schoolgirl! Your feeble spells won't work with me. Don't you know who you're fighting with?"

He then turned his whole body in the direction of Ron and Hermione and Harry saw on the strong man's face how much he really wanted to hurt them. Pulling out his wand, Harry cried the first spell that came to his mind: "_Crucio_!" As he said the Unforgivable Spell, he thought only of how badly he wanted to keep his friends from harm.

The spell hit the tall Triskelion on his left side, which sent him sliding a good distance on the marble floor with a surprising bang and a muffled cry of pain, but it was barely enough to keep the Triskelion short of breath for a second. Hermione and Ron both immediately sent spells in his direction but he dissolved the two curses to ashes, literally, with a sweep of his wand. And then, just as Harry was getting back on his feet, the Triskelion cast off another curse that hit him square in the chest. Though no word had been spoken aloud, Harry instantly knew what spell had been used as he felt the sting of the Torture Curse take hold of his body.

But as the spell hit him with such violence, so too did the realisation that he could deal with this sort of pain. He had experienced it before. It wasn't real, this ache that he was feeling in every one of his muscles. Losing Ginny, losing a friend, that was real pain, but magic was an illusion, a trick played on his brain. If he could discipline his mind, close it to any kind of assault, he should be able to withstand these sorts of spell. And why shouldn't he? After all, he had been able to control Lord Voldemort's invasion of his mind.

As he thought this, his left knee fell on the floor, but he did not feel the agony such as he had when Voldemort had used the same curse on him. He felt pain, yes, but nowhere near as intense, and that gave him a boost of energy and self-confidence. He got up without much difficulty and as he looked up, he saw that his adversary was noticeably taken aback.

"What's wrong? Are you afraid to fight me? Are you afraid I might have the Elder Wand? I duelled against Lord Voldemort twice. I can take _you_."

Harry heard Hermione scream "Harry, no!" several times, but he did not care: he was ready to fight just as he had been ready to die. He wanted to settle this now. He could not wait five hours and risk loosing Ginny's life.

"Very well, Potter, since you want to play in the big leagues…"

Raising his wand high above his head, the Triskelion took up a Duelling position such as one that Harry had seen used by Death Eaters during the battle of Hogwarts. And then, several things happened: Krum's lion-shaped Patronus came up running in the Great Hall, followed closely by its owner; a sound like thunder was heard high up and a number of stone fragments fell on the marble floor at once; and then there was a flash of blue light as the imposing silhouette of a man appeared right in the middle between Harry and his opponent.

He was a heavily-built man dressed in long black and red cape lined with silver and fur. Harry could only see him from the back but his head was completely bald and his wand was the longest that Harry had ever seen. It was almost like a small sword.

"Petr Konstantin," snarled the Triskelion. He took up another Duelling position in front of the newcomer.

"So it has come to this, Karl, yes? Very well, we shall dual," said the bald man. And, tossing his heavy cloak aside, he added in a booming voice: "Mr Krum!"

The Bulgarian Seeker who was now up to Harry's level, answered at once. "Yes, Headmaster."

"You will take Mr Potter, Miss Granger and Mr Weasley away from the school premises, yes?"

"Aye, sir," Krum replied at once.

He immediately seized Harry's arm and motioned pressingly to Hermione and Ron. The amount of stone and dust falling from the ceiling was now such that the polished marble floor was sparingly visible. Hermione was holding a Shield Charm above her and Ron's head as they came up to where Harry and Krum were standing. It was hard to see high above because of the absence of light, but Harry was sure that he saw something beastly moving up there. The Triskelion Karl, however, did not seem interested in the change that was taking place in the Great Hall. His attention was focused on the impressive figure that was the Durmstrang Headmaster.

"How long I've been hoping for this moment, Konstantin! I never understood why the Board of Directors appointed you as Headmaster. It should have been me. Well, now I will show everyone how worthless you are. Your pets don't impress me. I know a kind of magic that's beyond your reach and understanding."

Amongst the crashing sound of falling rocks, Harry distinctively heard a loud growl, followed by overlapping squawking and roaring. Hermione's eyes were turned upwards and she was trembling. Following her glance, Harry looked up to see that the gargoyles that had been nesting on the high walls had become alive and were now flying menacingly low over their heads.

"Don't be scared by them," Krum whispered. "They protect the school, and they obey the Headmaster."

"I'm not scared," Ron uttered shakily.

"Now would be a good time to do what is required, Mr Krum!" said the Headmaster forcibly.

Right then, the Triskelion sent a flashing curse in the direction of Viktor Krum and the others, but the Durmstrang Headmaster was quick and, placing his whole body right in front of the fiery light, transformed the powerful curse into a stream of snowflakes which was followed by a gush of cold winter wind that Harry felt on his face.

"I always knew that the only way to bring out your claws was through your cubs, Konstantin. You're so keen to protect the young ones, even the filthy Mudblood brats. But after tonight, Durmstrang shall be what it once was."

The Triskelion was circling around the Headmaster like a predator having spotted a prey, but the Headmaster seemed indifferent to the taunting remarks.

"Now would be a good time, Mr Krum!" he repeated boomingly.

But something had to be wrong with Viktor because he wasn't moving and he wasn't speaking. Harry wondered if Krum was thinking what he was thinking: what if the Triskelion died? What orders had Karl given the other Triskelions concerning Ginny if he did not return? Were they to dispose of her? Was there a second-in-command who would take charge and decide her fate? All these questions only led to one conclusion: the Triskelion Karl could not be killed. Harry had to make sure the Headmaster was aware of that situation, and since Krum was suddenly speechless…

"You can't kill him, sir," he yelled out, pushing Krum aside and taking a step forward. "They've got her, the other Triskelions. They've got a hostage. It's… Ginny Weasley."

He had to bite his tongue because he had almost said "my girlfriend" and that would emphasize her importance in the eyes of the Triskelion.

"Yes, yes, I'm aware of that, Mr Potter. We're on the same page, as they say, yes?"

Harry wasn't sure if he was supposed to reply.

"He understands," said Ron in a hushed voice. "That's settled then. Why aren't we moving?"

Harry looked at his side and saw Viktor Krum's face wincing almost in a painful way. He was staring at the front door of the Great Hall and also at his Headmaster and he seemed thorn between the two.

"Headmaster, I can help. Let me fight besides you."

There was no telling what was on the Headmaster's face because he kept his back to them, but he said something in Bulgarian which seemed to affect Krum very deeply. It also made the Triskelion Karl snort derisively.

"Let's go," Krum said finally between clenched teeth.

"Yes, go!" The Triskelion yelled as the four of them started to run towards the front door. "This is not a place for children anymore. A battle is about to begin such as Durmstrang as never seen!"

They were almost at the door when Hermione let out a high pitched scream. Something had hit the Shield Charm above their heads, but it wasn't a stone: it was an enormous flying gargoyle. It landed right in front of them with a roar. It looked like a creature half-way between a lion and a bull, but with sleek clay instead of fur. Small clouds of dust were coming out of its nostrils.

"Let us pass!" Krum said imperatively. "_Expecto Patronum_!"

Krum's impressive lion-shaped Patronus came out of his wand silver and shining. The gargoyle and the silver lion started growling at each other and as they did so Krum pushed Harry, Ron and Hermione hurriedly through the door. Harry had almost forgotten what lay beyond the Great Hall and he felt slightly surprised by the closed space of the elevator. Viktor Krum came in last and as the door closed, Harry followed the Bulgarian's glance towards the battle that was now raging in the Durmstrang Great Hall.

"You would only have made it difficult for him," Hermione said softly to Viktor.

She had voiced exactly what Harry had been thinking. He had seen the fight between Dumbledore and Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic, and it seemed to him that duals at such high level could only take place between two exceptional wizards. His own desire to take on the Triskelion was foolishness. He still had a lot to learn to take part in a battle of that kind. Only with the Elder Wand would he have been able to…

That's when it hit him.

The pain on his chest was gone.

The Elder Wand was gone.

Ginny was gone.


	26. Chapter 26

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-six

As the elevator doors opened onto the hotel lobby, Harry felt himself swaying in shock and he had to lay a hand on the wall to remain standing. The world around him seemed to be spinning, but he knew that it wasn't. He was only shaken by his sudden realisation which was accompanied by jolts of guilt and shame.

"Come on, Harry. We've got to move out!"

Hermione was pulling his arm as gently as she could. He knew that now was not the time to linger, but his feelings of dread were overwhelming.

They ran through the city towards the Movieplex on a much direct course than the one they had used the first time. Harry tried to turn as much of his thoughts as possible towards the task at hand. He knew that they had to keep running; he knew that they had to leave the city without delay, but he found it more difficult than anything he had ever done before. When he had left Hogwarts to surrender himself to Voldemort, knowing that he would die, he had done so of his own free will. It had been his choice, how ever difficult. This was different. He was leaving Ginny, abandoning her. He could not help but feel as though he had failed her. He wondered vaguely if Krum was feeling the same way, but the Bulgarian's face was hard to read at the moment. He seemed to be focused on doing what he had been told by the Durmstrang Headmaster.

_Come on, get __hold of yourself_, Harry thought, shaking his head. The recent events were racing in his mind at a fast pace: the funeral, the rumours, the Dark Forest, the black spiral mark on his chest, Dementors gliding over the Burrow, the vision of the future, seeing his older self and knowing the names of his children. But now Ginny was taken. Would the future change? How could they have children together if she died?

"We're almost there," Viktor Krum said as the old opera house turned into a movie theatre came into view.

Several Movieplex employees in uniform were standing at the entrance and seemed to be expecting them. They signalled to Krum and they led the group towards the viewing room where they had first Apparated forming a guard around Harry, Ron and Hermione. Many Muggles turned their heads towards the group and seemed to wonder what was going on, but more Movieplex guards had appeared and Harry was sure that they were there to perform the necessary Memory Charms on the Muggles who had seen too much.

As the four of them stepped unto the stage in front of the movie screen, Krum shook hands with one of the Movieplex people and spoke rapidly in Bulgarian. He then came to stand next to Harry.

"Vhere can ve go to that's safe?" Krum asked.

"Grimmauld Place," Hermione replied. "Hold on. It will be a tight squeeze."

Harry immediately felt the pull of Hermione's Side-Along Apparition spell. The floor disappeared from under his feet before he had time to brace himself or to gather his thoughts. As soon as they Apparated on the front steps of Sirius' house, he felt his head spinning, his stomach lurching and his legs giving in. This was more strain than his body could withstand. Thankfully, Viktor Krum was close and caught him by the shoulders before he could fall off the steps where he would have been outside the safety of the house's protective spells.

Ron pushed the door opened and the four of them stumbled into the house, almost falling on top of each other.

"I'm sorry. I told you it would be a tight squeeze," Hermione grumbled, robbing her left knee which had collided with the doorframe.

Harry took a few stumbling steps to free himself from Krum's grasp and leaned one hand on the wall. The same question was pondering on his mind over and over: What would he do if Ginny died?

"Harry…?"

Hermione's voice was unmistakably concerned, but he didn't feel like talking just yet. He needed a few moments to recover his bearings. He was fighting very hard an urge to be sick. Hermione seemed to understand because she did not inquire further.

"You're back!" said a familiar voice coming from up the stairs. "We've made the house safe and mum and dad and Hermione's parents have returned to the Burrow…"

"Shaklebolt has ordered an investigation and he's sent a couple of people to watch over…"

Harry looked up and saw Percy and George eagerly coming down as they were speaking. They came face to face with Harry first and fell silent at once.

"What's happened? Where's Ginny?" George asked, staring at Harry.

"She's not dead so don't freak out," Ron replied immediately.

"What's happened to her?" George retorted between gritted teeth.

"The Triskelions have taken her," Krum answered bluntly. "They von't hurt her. She's their hostage."

Harry was surprised at how much Krum sounded in control of his emotions. He suddenly wished he had that kind of strength.

"I want to hear it from _his_ mouth," George snapped crudely.

"Don't take it out on Harry," Ron put in warningly. "It's not like he meant for this to happen!"

"Well, maybe he should have thought about it before dating her."

"You mean that Harry shouldn't have a normal life, is that what you mean?"

"Stop it!" Hermione cried out distressingly, which silenced Ron at once. "This is hard enough. You two will loose the attitude or I will curse you both," she added commandingly to Ron and George.

The next thing that Harry felt was Hermione's hand on his shoulder, but he brushed it away hastily and said: "We have five hours to think up a plan." He was trying very hard to keep his voice steady. "Let's settle in the kitchen and figure out something. Please?"

Ron seemed to understand the cue to lead the others into the next room. He pushed Percy and George forward and Viktor followed obediently, observing the paintings on the wall as he walked.

"You have to rest a bit too," said Hermione with motherly concern, peering into Harry's face. "You can't go on like that."

"I have to. It's Ginny. The visions I had, they're about our future together. I can't loose her, Hermione. I'll do whatever…"

But he couldn't finish his sentence. Hermione had pulled him into a tight hug. It seemed to release some of the guilt and tension he was feeling. He allowed a few tears to roll down his cheeks, but he quickly wiped them away as Hermione pulled back from him.

"It's not as hopeless as you may think, Harry. The Arch is in the Department of Mysteries, in the Ministry of Magic. That's going to play in our favour. You're Harry Potter. How many people do you think would lend us a hand if you sent for help? But we haven't got much time."

Taking his hand, she led him into the kitchen where Ron, George and Percy were sitting at the table. Viktor Krum was still standing; he seemed to be taking in his surroundings with great interest.

Harry didn't feel like relating the recent events to George and Percy just yet, and he was not sure how much he actually wanted to tell them, so he was glad that Viktor Krum broke the awkward silence first.

"Many of your ancestors have been to Durmstrang," the Bulgarian said matter-of-factly, staring at a picture on the wall which Harry had not noticed before.

"This is my godfather's house," Harry replied without much care. "You're looking at the Black family, or possibly the Lestrange," he added with embarrassment, remembering the 'D' on his shirt and where it came from.

"No, no," Krum insisted, pointing at the frame. "This is Georgiana Potter. She vent to school with my grandfather. She's a famous painter, very old now. Next to her is Charles Potter. My parents knew him. He had four or five children with a French woman. They moved around quite a bit. Some of the children are still alive, I think. My mother vould know. She's very… There she is in the back. This is a Duelling Championship picture. It looks like ve are almost connected, Potter."

He stopped short when he saw the total look of shock on Harry's face. Harry didn't know much about the Potters except that they were pure-bloods and descendents of the Peverells. He had always thought the Dursleys were his last living relations. Of course, he had been protected by his mother's blood at the Dursleys, which flowed through the veins of his aunt Petunia. But other Potters? He had never considered the possibility. The look on Hermione and Ron's face was equally stunned.

"It's not that surprising, Potter. Really. You are a Pure-Blood. Most Pure-Blood families share a history. You didn't know?"

"After all those years of living with the Dursleys…," said Ron, momentarily turning his gaze away from the pantry, "do you think Dumbledore knew?" But Hermione nudged him on the shoulder before he could finish his comment and Harry clearly heard Hermione utter "this isn't helping, Ron," under her breath.

Harry felt immediately compelled to summon Kreacher. The old house-elf appeared with a faint _pop_.

"Where did you get that?" Harry inquired straight away, pointing his finger at the picture.

"Kreacher is making the house fit for Harry Potter. Mistress did not want the pictures anymore when Master Sirius left to live with the Blood-traitors Potters. 'Out of my sight' she said, and so Kreacher made them disappear. Now Master Harry Potter is angry with Kreacher. Bad, bad Kreacher."

The old house-elf started to walk slowly towards the stove. Remembering the way in which Dobby used to inflict himself punishment, Harry thought immediately that it would be better to find Kreacher something else to do. Besides, Hermione was sending him pleading looks and Ron was looking hopelessly at the pantry.

"I'm not angry Kreacher. You're a good… Kreacher. You're doing a great job. Get us something to eat now, please."

At the dining table, Percy offered to look into the Ministry's archives for any record of the Potter family tree. Harry smiled and thanked him, while a part of him wondered if the name of Potter would die with him if he didn't have children. It took him a few minutes to shake away the awful thought.

The food smelled good and was very comforting: bowls of steaming soup, bread freshly out of the oven and many different kinds of cheese. Harry allowed himself not to think while he was eating up his late lunch. It was very silent around the table, except for Ron's slurping as he gulped down his soup, and Hermione's feverish scribbling on a piece of parchment that she had pulled out of her beaded bag.

George pushed away his empty bowl after only five or ten minutes and decided it was time to get down to business.

"So did you find out who sent the Dementors?"

"It was Schlug-ormff," said Ron with a mouthful of bread.

"But it's the Triskelions behind it," Hermione cut it. "They're a secret society obsessed with uniting the Deathly Hallows. The Hallows reveal who the heir of William Peverell is. Only the heir can walk through the Archway of the Dead and hope to strike a bargain with the Lord of the Underworld."

"Let me guess," said George with a half-grin. "Harry is the heir."

"And the Triskelions want him to walk through the Gate and bargain the return of Voldemort and Grindelwald," Hermione completed.

"And Harry wouldn't die like Sirius?" George asked.

"Yes, he would. The three objects point to Harry as the worthy descendant of William Peverell, but that's all they do. To return from the Underworld, Harry would have to bargain with Hades," Hermione replied, stroking her head. "That's what the mark means."

_I haven't got the mark anymore_, Harry thought at once. And then he remembered how it was Ginny now who was the Master of the Elder Wand.

His reason wanted to give Hermione this new bit of information, but there was another part of him wondering if that was the right course of action, if he should conceal the fact that he no longer had the Elder Wand. His friends believed that he was protected, that he could walk through the Gate as William Peverell had done, and bargain his way back. The truth was that if he indeed walked through the Arch without the mark to identify him as Peverell's heir, his presence would go unnoticed. The Lord of the Underworld would take no interest in him; he would be one uninteresting soul amongst thousands of others just passing through to the next life. Peverell's curse was meant to reveal his heir, his most worthy descendant, the one who could control the Hallows. Hades would not bother to open a conversation with anybody else.

Harry could see the appeal of such an opportunity. A private audience with the Lord of the Underworld was the chance to ask for anything, though with a price. Peverell had obtained Azkaban, control of the Dementors, and Immortality, in exchange for his soul and a childless future. _I could have asked for the power to save Ginny, and the return of all of those who died by Voldemort's hand_, he thought bitterly. _Well, that's all gone now. There will be no bargain. I failed to keep the Hallows united. I'm not worthy of the name of Peverell. If I step through the Gate now, there is no coming back, that's for sure._

Hermione's clear and resolute voice brought him out of his reverie, and he realised that she had been talking for some time while he had been thinking.

"So we agree that Harry is not going to step into the Gate. Is that clear for everyone?"

Percy, George, Ron and Viktor were nodding, but Hermione seemed more interested to get a confirmation from Harry.

"I know you're thinking about it, Harry, but Mr. Lovegood was right, you know. There can be no bargain if you have to give up your soul as payment."

All that Harry could reply was a feeble "right".

His thoughts were on Ginny. He could not see how he could ensure her safety if the Triskelions did not think that he was going to do what they wanted.

"That doesn't give us much option," said Percy gravely.

"There is only one option," Hermione snapped, her voice clear and resolute. "We strike in numbers."

"They'll see us coming, 'Mione," Ron replied, putting down his piece of bread. "They'll kill Ginny before we can even get to her."

"No, they won't because Harry will show up like he's supposed to. They'll think they've got him cornered. It doesn't even have to be Harry. I have enough Polyjuice Potion for at least three people in here," she said, indicating her beaded bag. When Ron threw her an inquisitive look, she added: "I… err… Slughorn still had some in his office so I took the liberty of… There were all those rumours and I just thought it could come in handy."

The very fond look on Ron's face was almost embarrassing to watch.

"_My_ Hermione," he whispered lovingly.

"Polyjuice Potion. Bit _déjà vu_, but it could work," George acknowledged. "They're sure to follow Harry as soon as he shows up at the Ministry of Magic. If we give them three or four to follow, they're sure to be put of course."

"That doesn't leave many of them for us to fight off," Ron put in a little too enthusiastically. "And I have this!"

He pulled out the Deluminator from his Chuddley Cannons rucksack.

"There's still the matter of getting around the Department of Mysteries," Percy cut in more seriously. "You may not know this, but the place is full of booby traps. Getting to the Archway of the Dead may be trickier than you think."

"I think we know a bit about that, Percy, thank you very much," said Ron derisively.

He looked over at Harry and Hermione for support, but Hermione seemed a little taken aback.

"I hadn't thought about that," she admitted. "The Department of Mysteries is a real maze and we can't afford to loose one person in that place. Our strength is in our number."

"_Our number_?" George snapped back at her. "I see only five people around this table, six if we include Mr Quidditch-World-Cup," he added with an unconvinced frown in the direction of Viktor Krum.

"Of course I'm included!" Krum burst out indignantly.

"It's not just us! Listen, I've made a list," Hermione cut in hastily. "If we can give everyone a time and place to be in the" (she looked at her watch) "three hours that remain, then we can strike with twenty or thirty people all at once. The Triskelions will be outnumbered five or six to one."

There was a general silence during which everyone seemed to be taking in the plan. Harry couldn't help but think that it was a good plan, as far as rescuing Ginny was concerned. He could only see one flaw in it. While they were all infiltrating the Department of Mysteries, setting the Triskelions off course, and striking in numbers as Hermione had put it, he was going to be in front of that Gate, trying to buy some time. He would have to distract and trick the Master Duellist and Triskelion Karl long enough for the rescue party to arrive. But what if he couldn't? What if stepping through the Gate became the only option?

"It von't be enough," Krum suddenly said, laying both hands on the table.

He had been staring intensely at the Duelling Championship picture on the wall.

"The Triskelions, you have not seen these men dual. They are masters."

"Well, we escaped your Duelling Stadium, didn't we?" Ron sniggered.

"They vere holding back because they vere afraid to kill Harry," Krum explained right away in a gloomy tone. "This time they vill kill you, and everyone else you bring vit you. Your numbers is not enough."

"Well, I can't think of anybody else. A lot of Aurors have died," Hermione said, defending her plan.

Ron stretched his arm to take her hand in his. Seeing them like this, Harry could not help but think of Lupin and Tonks and their dead bodies as he had seen them in the Hogwarts Great Hall.

"Aurors vill not do," Krum retorted. "Vat you need is Duelling Masters. _Many_ Duelling Masters."

George, Percy and Ron seemed rather unperceptive at the idea.

"Yes, and Quidditch players as well," George snorted. The irony in his voice was obvious.

Only Hermione seemed hopeful. She looked from her small parchment to Krum and said: "We don't have much time, but we'll accept everyone ready to help. How many people can you get?"

"Eight, ten, maybe more."

"Wow. _Ten_ is really going to help us," George sneered again.

"These people vill show you spells they don't teach at Hogvarts!" Krum bellowed in George's face.

"They have to understand one thing, though," Harry interposed.

Suddenly, there was silence around the table, as though none of them had expected to hear him speak up. He felt a bit awkward during a fleeting moment, but he went on.

"This won't be like duelling in a stadium. People could get killed. Anyone coming has to understand that."

As he finished his sentence, George turned his eyes away from Harry's uneasily and Ron tightened his grip on Hermione's hand. But Krum seemed resolute. He got up at once and aimed for the door.

"Just let me know the time and place through DA coins. You still can, can't you?"

Hermione was momentarily taken aback. Krum pulled out the fake Galleon that Hermione had invented for the DA meetings all those seasons ago.

"Ginny gave me one last year," he muttered hurriedly.

Harry thought that he sounded distressed as he said Ginny's name, which was a good sign. It meant that Krum might care enough for her to make her safe at any cost.

Krum was almost out of the door when one last thought crossed Harry's mind.

"What did your Headmaster tell you when we left?"

Krum stopped for a moment.

"He said he did not want to loose Durmstrang's new Duelling Master."

And after that he was gone.

"Well, I hope his Headmaster survived and that he'll show up to help us," said Ron hopefully, but with a playful grin. He added a muted "_Git_" in the direction where Krum had gone.

But Harry wasn't feeling playful at all. He kept turning the same issue over and over in his head. It was a good plan under the circumstances. The focus was to save Ginny, which is what he wanted. There was only one thing that he could not get over: he did not want to step through the Gate and he did not want to die.

"Harry, what is it?"

Hermione's voice was like a bell calling him out of his tired mind.

"There's one more thing you need to know." He took a deep breath. "I haven't got the wand anymore. I couldn't control it. I asked Ginny to disarm me. She has the Elder Wand now. I couldn't keep the Deathly Hallows united under one master, so the mark of _Destina_ _Nobilis_ or whatever it's called is gone. If I step through the Gate, I'm not coming back."

He had allowed the words to flow out of his mouth and couldn't bear to stare at his friends now that his secret was out.

"It doesn't matter," Hermione said quietly. "We had already agreed that you weren't going to step into it. Harry, it's _fine_. You shouldn't worry about that. You should try to sleep a bit. We'll arrange everything while you rest. You need it."

Harry could tell that Hermione was trying to sound as comforting as possible though the clock was ticking and he was changing one variable in her plan.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, "you need sleep, mate. You look…"

"_Awful_, I know," Harry cut in. "Just do me a favour. If you get the chance, destroy it. The Archway, I mean."

Hermione looked appalled at the idea. She knew of course what the destruction of the Gate would imply: Azkaban would loose the services of the Dementors. There would be escapes; Death Eaters and other dark wizards loose in the streets. But somehow, he felt that it was the right thing to do. A Gateway to the World of the Dead was not something natural. It was too tempting and too dreadful.

He waited for an answer. At last, Hermione seemed to understand his judgment.

"All right, Harry, we'll destroy it."

Without another word, he rose and headed for the stairs, hoping that he would be able to stop his mind from racing long enough so that he may get a few minutes of sleep. As he was halfway up the stairs, he heard George's mischievous tone.

"Blow a heap of rocks to pieces? I might have just the thing for that."


	27. Chapter 27

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-seven

Harry fell asleep in spite of himself. His original plan had been to just lay his head down for a while. It was Hermione's voice that woke him up. She was standing at the foot of his bed (Sirius' bed) with a cup of steaming coffee which she handed to him before he could get up. He had felt so ill and shaky and frozen during the last few days that he was not surprised to discover that he was covered in hot sweat. He felt as though he was just waking up after a long and exhausting cold.

"Thanks, Hermione, but I think I'll have a glass of water instead, and a shower."

"Oh, Harry," she whispered apologetically. "There's no time for a shower. Just drink the coffee, please. I put a tonic in it."

He took a sip a little reluctantly but the beverage was unexpectedly refreshing.

"Are you all right?" Hermione asked, peering into his face.

The rush of annoyance that he felt made him almost spill his coffee.

"No, I'm not all right, Hermione. Ginny could die!"

"No, I mean, you were tossing in your sleep, you know. You said 'please, not him' and stuff like that."

He took another sip of coffee and tried to remember if he had been dreaming. The visions were gone now. The memories that he retained were only blurred images, names and his own feelings of dread. Was that what he had been dreaming about? Loosing his son?

"This is good coffee," he said with a half-smile when Hermione's stare became too inquisitive.

"He was just trying to manipulate you," she insisted. "You don't believe those visions, do you?"

"No," he replied, trying to be convincing, "but they were a bit distressing, you know."

He knew that he sounded bitter, but the truth was that the memory of those visions was going to stay with him forever. He would always have in his mind that picture of himself running towards the Gryffindor Common Room, dreading what he was going to find there, terrorized that something may have happened to his youngest son. It wasn't real, but it had felt real.

"You have to believe that things will get better," Hermione said quietly. "It's the only way to keep going, you know. Ginny and you will be together again. We'll do something fun when it's all over, like go to a movie like we said. Ron would like that."

She turned away from him so that he couldn't see her face therefore he couldn't know for certain if she was crying. She sounded resolute more than anything else.

Without further ado, she pulled open a drawer from the dresser and started to rummage through its content.

"It turns out that there's only enough Polyjuice Potion for two people. Ron and George will be taking it. Do all these clothes fit you?"

"Err… yeah," he replied uneasily, thinking that he wanted to change as well. "How long do we have left?"

"Not long. Looks like Kreacher got rid of Rodolphus Lestrange's stuff. I'll take these. There's one for you as well. You should all be dressed the same."

She showed him three black and scarlet shirts with the golden Gryffindor coat of arms in the front. She then put one of the shirts at the foot of his bed and left the room so that he could change privately. As much as he would have liked to take a shower, he had to settle for a quick splash of water on his face, a change of clothes and a speedy and fruitless brush of his hair.

Ron, George and Hermione were waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. Hermione had already drawn her wand out and looked ready to take on the Department of Mysteries all by herself. As for Ron and George, they were both holding a cup of a ghastly-looking liquid.

"We need some of you, mate," George said as soon as he saw Harry coming down the stairs.

"Where's Percy?"

"He's gone to the Ministry. No one will suspect him. He had stuff to prepare."

"Any news from everybody else?" asked Harry hurriedly while handing out a few pulled-out hairs to Ron and George.

"Yes. We've got thirty-three minutes before the strike."

Hermione wasn't looking at her watch but at the fake Galleon in her hand. When Harry looked closer, he could see numbers moving around the edges of the coin like a countdown.

"We've had news from Viktor," she added. "Karl Lovech – that's his full name – escaped. The Headmaster wasn't hurt, but their dual destroyed parts of the school. Some underground rooms actually caved in. On the News, they're calling it an earthquake. Slughorn is nowhere found. Viktor is also warning us that there may be more Triskelions than those we met in the Stadium."

"Well, let's just hope that Headmaster of his shows up. Shall we drink?"

Ron was looking at his Polyjuice Potion with a mixture of loathing and anxiety. George didn't need telling twice. He said "bottoms up" and drank all the concoction at once. Harry watched the transformation with no other thought than to get going as quickly as possible.

"There's a sort of bitter taste," said George, ruffling up his new jet-black hair. "Very subtle, though."

"Harry, your muscles ache all over, mate."

Ron was stretching his arms and bending his back, assessing his new body, while Hermione was handing pairs of glasses to him and George.

"It's not just your muscles," George added, a little more seriously than Harry wanted him to, "it's your chest too. There's something on your chest. You said you didn't have the mark anymore!"

Before anyone could stop him, George had removed his shirt and was looking down at his, or rather at Harry's naked torso. His fingers traced the oval burn-like mark left by the Horcrux over Harry's heart. Just under it, there was a bluish spot where Voldemort's Killing Curse had landed. On his shoulder, there was a tiny scar left by Slughorn's arrow. On his arm, the half-healed puncture holes of Voldemort's snake were still visible.

"What is _that_?" George muttered, still looking down at the body that wasn't his own.

"It hurts a little, doesn't it?" Ron said awkwardly.

"Does it? Oh, Harry! I'm so sorry! You should have said…"

"It's not your fault, Hermione," Harry cut in, a little aggravated. "It doesn't really hurt, it's just that you're not used to it," he said in the direction of Ron and George. "Now if you don't mind, George, I'll save that story for some other time. Can we just get going?"

George seemed to swallow a question he was going to ask, but he decided on putting the shirt back on instead.

"I reckon being you isn't as glamorous as I thought," he grumbled with a half-grin. "Great abs, though."

Harry couldn't help but let out a long sigh.

"This is too weird. This is the last time anyone takes that potion to impersonate me."

Ron patted him on the back and said, half-smiling: "You ain't never doing me, mate."

He then picked up the orange Chuddley Cannons rucksack from which he pulled out the Invisibility Cloak. He handed it back to Harry without ceremony and selected the Deluminator and, to Harry's surprise and outmost astonishment, a wand that looked a lot like the Elder Wand.

"It's just for pretend," Ron said, not hiding his amusement at Harry's shocked grin. "It's one of Fred and George's fake wands. If you try to do magic with it, it'll turn into a rubber duck."

"Corn on a cob," George corrected. "If it happens, just give it a wave and whisper 'wicked' close to it. It will revert back." He paused and added dreamily: "We used to joke and say we made a fake Wand of Destiny. I guess we really did."

"Ron, your time's almost up," Hermione interrupted pressingly.

She seemed to have lost the thread of the conversation and was looking at her fake Galleon obsessively.

"How are we doing this?" Harry asked.

"Ron goes first. He'll go to the Department of Mysteries and pick a door. Then he'll use the Deluminator so the Triskelions will loose track of him. That's when George will arrive and pick another door. He'll use Peruvian Instant Darkness for his escape. And then, you'll show up under the Invisibility Cloak and straight into the Death Chamber."

"Do you have to call it that?" Ron garbled.

But Hermione ignored him.

"When you get to the rotating room with all the doors, just say 'the white door' and apparently you'll know the way. It's the only useful information that Percy could get from the Unspeakable he spoke to."

"Not much good at interrogating, isn't he?" Ron commented.

"What about you?"

"I'll be leading the strike," Hermione said, blushing, but there was determination in her face as well.

"Twenty minutes," Ron cut in. "It's my time to go, then."

He put a hand on the door handle while taking a long breath, but suddenly turned around as though he had forgotten something important. He took one step towards Hermione but she immediately held her hand high to bring him to a stop.

"Honestly, Ron! You're _Harry_, remember? I could never kiss you as Harry. It would just be too weird. Just be careful, okay?"

Ron mumbled a feeble "okay" and then Disapparated into the dark and rainy evening. George immediately stepped up and took up his coin to check the countdown on it. He was gone when it reached eighteen minutes. Harry glanced briefly at the inside of his Godfather's – _his_ – house one last time, before stepping closer to the door as well, waiting for his turn. Hermione came next to him and put two small objects in the palm of his hand: a DA fake Galleon and her heart-shaped necklace containing the Resurrection Stone.

"Don't do anything stupid like stepping through the Archway, okay?"

"What about destroying it?" he asked while looking at the countdown.

"George has got it covered."

"Don't do anything stupid like getting killed," he added with a half-smile.

She smiled back and whispered: "You can go now."

Harry arrived in the Ministry of Magic lobby. He was a little surprised at how easily it had been to Apparate there, but then he remembered how much damage the Ministry must have sustained during the battle to free it from the Death Eaters. The place seemed to have been cleaned up, though. There was not any debris on the floor, no broken glass, even the golden statue was where it should be.

The hall was dimly lit and empty and he heard his own footsteps echo on the floor as he walked towards the elevator. A lonely paper plane was floating lazily above his head as the elevator whizzed its way downwards towards the Department of Mysteries. As he stretched his neck, Harry clearly saw that the interdepartmental memo was addressed to Dolores J. Umbridge and he wondered vaguely what might have happened to the old toad. He tried to remain focus, but he was distracted when the memo zoomed out of the elevator and two more arrived: one for Arabella Cremoni of the Aurors department, and another for Arthur Weasley to the Department of Magical Cooperation. The fact that someone was sending him a memo did not mean that Mr Weasley was at the Ministry at the moment, but Harry could not help but think that he would be happy to see a familiar face. However, there was no one in the corridor when the elevator's feminine voice announced that he had arrived at the Department of Mysteries.

He could recall seeing that same corridor filled with Dementors and people sobbing in every corner from his last visit. This time, the place was quiet and clean. There was no sign of a Triskelion following him, either. He had no problem finding the black polished door which would lead him into the rotating room. Before pushing it opened, however, he slipped under the Invisibility Cloak and tucked the necklace and fake-Elder Wand into his pockets. He only held his phoenix-wand aloft.

The first door did not offer any resistance, as though he had been expected. The second door was unlocked as well and when it closed, Harry found himself full of doors swirling around him and he knew that he could not turn back even if he had wanted to.

As Hermione had instructed him, he cried out "the white door!"

He had half-expected the spell not too work. It sounded too simple. Surprisingly enough, the doors started to slow down and some of them began to glow of different colors. As he stared around, waiting to see a white door, he was rather startled by the green-glowing door. Through it, like a reflection, he could see the outline of a dark green filled tank with the tiny speck of a white brain inside of it. _The spell reveals what's in each room_, he thought in amazement. Some of the doors remained black, so he assumed that these were empty rooms or rooms whose content had to remain secret. As for a white door, there seemed to be no sign of one. The room was no longer turning so he started to walk around, searching. Suddenly, between a black door and a pink one through which he could see fairies dancing in little glass balls, he saw what looked like a white doorknob sticking out of the dark wall. _This must be it_, he thought. Sure enough, as he pulled the white knob, a hole on the wall opened and Harry immediately found himself surrounded in white light.

_Where to?_

"The Death Chamber?" Harry replied uneasily to the feminine voice.

For a short moment, no more than a second, it felt as though his feet were no longer on the ground. There was a gush of wind and then he landed on a solid floor and the white light around him faded away rapidly, revealing that he was indeed in the Death Chamber.

In front of him lay the familiar stone pit, some twenty feet deep. At the bottom of it, he could see the Arch, standing on its podium, its black curtain fluttering to and fro. The room was dimly lit, but he could see that some of the benches around the pit were missing huge chunks, probably from being damaged by curses. Harry was standing at the top at the stairs, but he wasn't alone. Doing a rapid headcount, he identified at least ten Triskelions scattered on each side of the stairs. Down in the pit, there seemed to be five more. They were all staring at Harry; or rather they were staring at where he was standing because he was still hidden under the Cloak. Clearly, they had seen the flash of white light which had betrayed his arrival.

"Come, Potter! Reveal your presence!" cried the voice of Karl Lovech from the bottom of the pit.

It was no use keeping his cloak on. When he took it off, he heard whispers of wonder and awe all around him.

"Come down, Potter. But I wonder… Are you the real Potter this time?"

_This time? __They must have caught Ron or George or both_, he thought in horror.

"It's me," he said as he started to walk down the stairs. "You can ask me anything."

"Just say Lord Voldemort's name without any fear and we'll know it's you. This one sure can't."

He pulled into view a defiant-looking Harry Potter that Harry immediately recognized as George; Ron would never have a mocking grin on his face at such a moment.

"He's not me," he said with conviction. "Let him go!"

"Just say You-Know-Who's name!" yelled a masculine voice close on his right.

"I'll just call him Tom Riddle, then. Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was a murderer and a coward who couldn't bear to face death. Are you satisfied now?"

"Yes, that will do," the voice of Karl Lovech sneered. And then he pushed the Harry Potter/George Weasley into the arms of the Triskelion Boris who was standing just behind him.

Harry was halfway down the stairs now and he could see the faces of the Triskelions Karl and Draganov. Boris was behind them and holding George. Two more hooded Triskelions were standing guard on each side of Karl Lovech, and an additional two were positioned on each side of the Archway.

"That's it, isn't it?" whispered Draganov when Harry was finally standing at the bottom of the pit. He was pointing at the Invisibility Cloak bundled up under Harry's arm. "This is the Cloak of the tale, perfect in every way." There was a flicker in his eyes as he spoke.

"And the Stone?" said Karl.

Harry pulled out the necklace from his pocket and allowed it to swing to and fro in front of his opponents before stuffing it back into his pants and next to the fake-Galleon.

"And the Wand?" the Triskelion Boris cried out.

Harry showed them the fake-Elder Wand and put it back in his pocket a little more hastily, suddenly wishing that he could catch a glimpse of the countdown on the coin to know how much time he had to buy.

"Bah!" cried Boris who was still gripping George tightly on the upper arm. "Not Deathstick!"

"Boris doesn't think you have the Wand of Destiny, Potter," Karl said slyly. "But I do. How else could you have destroyed the Dark Lord? Dumbledore told you not to use it, didn't he?"

"That's right," Harry acknowledged right away.

"I think Potter should prove that he has the Wand of Destiny," Draganov insisted. His claim received several nods from the other Triskelions.

It was too good an opportunity to let it pass.

"I couldn't tell you what's in that wand. Its core, I mean. It may turn out to be just something Voldemort was allergic too, like cat hair or peanut butter."

"Are you saying that the Dark Lord was killed by peanuts?" cried the nameless Triskelion next to Draganov.

Harry could swear he saw George suppress a chuckle.

"I dunno," Harry said, shrugging. "Maybe you should get a wand maker in here."

His suggestion seemed to cause the beginning of a dispute among some of the Triskelions. However, Karl rapidly called his followers back to order.

"Silence!" he cried out, his voice amplified magically.

There was the sign of urgency and impatience in his eyes when his stare fell unto Harry again.

"Clever, Potter, very clever. Trying to bring doubt into our midst, I see. But there's really no use for debate now, is there? If you turn out to be a fraud and not a master of the Deathly Hallows as you led us to believe, then your trip through the Gate will be a short one."

Then he leaned closer to Harry's ear and added threateningly: "I can personally guarantee you that if you choose to sacrifice yourself and not to return from the World of the Dead, you will not be remembered as a hero. When they will speak of you, they will whisper only how selfishly you deserted her and allowed her to suffer in your place. Now, shall we?"

And then, just when he thought that he could no longer escape walking through the Gate one of the Triskelion began to yell hysterically: "Kill him! I'll kill him! He destroyed the Dark Lord! I'LL KILL HIM!"

Harry saw one of the hooded figures from up on the stairs rush forward in his direction, wand aloft, a mad look on his face. But Karl Lovech was fast to reply. With a quick wave and a loud and clear "_Avada Kedevra_!" the hooded man fell on the steps, dead on the spot. His lifeless body tumbled down until his face landed a few inches from Harry's feet. It wasn't anyone that Harry recognized.

"He's right! Kill him now! Kill the Chosen One!"

This time it was not possible to tell who had spoken because there was no movement in Harry's direction. However, there were a few whispers as other Triskelions were agreeing with the suggested course of action.

"He will do the deed first!" Karl's commanding voice cried to the assembly at large, his face red with fury. "Potter has the power to bring back the Dark Lord and Lord Grindelwald!"

"Some of your recruits don't seem to agree with your plan, Karl," Harry said sarcastically. "Maybe you should consult with them and make sure we're all on the same page."

Karl took a step back and the grin on his face was not at all reassuring to Harry. The strong man said something imperative in Bulgarian and there was stirring in the shadows behind Boris.

Then he saw her.

A hooded Triskelion brought Ginny forward at the tip of a wand. She was floating in mid-air, tied by the wrists, hanging from a levitating chain, and apparently unconscious. Her hair was sticking on her face and there were blood-red stains on her hands and arms. They kept her very high so that Harry could not even have touched her feet, had he tried to.

"Get her down!" Harry cried out, feeling a rush of anger. "She's not to be harmed! Let her down!"

But Karl was only grinning.

"Turn around, Potter," he said contemptuously. "Destiny awaits you."

Harry did not need to turn around. He could hear the voices through the veil. The Archway was near, just up on the podium behind him, whispering, inviting him. It was almost hypnotic to stare into it. What if he got too close? Would he hear the voices of Sirius, of Dumbledore, of Lupin, or of Fred? Would the Gate lure him in?

"You'll get her down first," he said defiantly, keeping his eyes fixed on Ginny and his hand tight on his phoenix-wand. "That was our bargain."

"_HE'S_ NOT PART OF THE BARGAIN!" screamed the Triskelion Karl with rage, his wand pointing menacingly at George's throat.

Harry could see his own terror drawn on George's face which still had his traits. He knew that he could not wait anymore: Karl was loosing patience. If he did not step through the Gate now, George would die. He knew an ultimatum if this was ever one.

"_Zero_."

"What?" Karl said with annoyance, momentarily turning his gaze away from Harry to stare at George. "What did you say?"

Harry had never imagined that his face could produce such a mischievous smile.

"You little blood-traitor brat!" Karl Lovech yelled out, snatching George by the shoulder and shaking him. "Repeat what you just said!"

This time, George did not hold back, and his scream was a call to battle.

"ZERO!"


	28. Chapter 28

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-eight

"ZERO!"

George's cry was like a bell announcing a hurricane. The attack came from all around the stone pit. There were jets of red, blue, yellow and green lights. There were crashes like thunder and screams of shock coming from the Triskelions. Harry had to duck to avoid being hit by a very large boulder that rocketed in his direction. For a split second, he thought that the rock had hit Karl or Draganov or any other Triskelion, but as he wheeled around, he saw that they had scattered and were well able to defend themselves against the surprise attack.

"I told you not to attempt anything foolish, Potter!" cried Karl Lovech.

He was holding his wand towards Ginny.

"_Sectumsempra_!" Harry said before Lovech could act.

The spell caught the Triskelion on the shoulder and Harry saw beads of red blood appear on his shirt. The strong man replied immediately with a Stunning Spell that Harry had to avoid by throwing himself on the stone floor.

As he was gathering his wand and struggling to get up, he suddenly heard a small voice.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!"

Karl Lovech was swept off his feet and thrown high up into the air by the opponent he had not seen. But before there could be any real damage done, he regained his balance and glided back to ground on the other side of the pit where Harry lost sight of him.

Harry wheeled around in search of the person who had helped him and he immediately spotted Luna Lovegood crouching down behind a boulder. She winked at him and threw another curse ("_Levicorpus_!") at a Triskelion who was running towards Harry. This gave him time to get up and to cast Stunning Spells at a hooded figure that was concealed behind the Archway's podium. The man was not backing away, so Harry used "_Expelliarmus_!" and the Triskelion finally recoiled, having lost his wand.

"Watch it, Harry!" someone yelled from above.

Three or four large pieces of rock zoomed past Harry and flew high into the air. Harry caught a glimpse of Oliver Wood who was using a Summoning Charm to sling rocks at his opponent. The ensuing dust made it difficult for Harry to see very far ahead so he decided to climb on the podium. What he saw was a lot more imposing than what he had expected.

Around the Arch and all the way up the stone stairs, people were fighting. There were some that he knew, and others that were just vaguely familiar. There were teachers and students, old and young, all of them battling to the best of their abilities against the powerful enemies. The Triskelions were turning up to be strong adversaries and amazing duellists, just like Viktor Krum had said. He saw Boris take down at least ten people at once with a complicated curse involving tiny fireballs, then disappear in a cloud of smoke while leaving a trail of fire behind him. Luckily, a witch used "_Aguamenti_!" and managed to extinguish the flames on people's clothes. It was a wavy-haired girl familiar to Harry. Was it Lavender Brown?

Boom! There was a loud clash above head and Harry immediately thought of Ginny. There were so many things happening on the stone pit that he had lost sight of her and now someone had conjured up a cloud that was sending out bolts of lightening seemingly at random.

"That cloud is a nice bit of magic, don't you think? I wonder who conjured it. I hope they're on our side."

Harry turned on the spot to find Luna Lovegood standing casually on the podium next to him. She was staring at Ginny's unconscious body that was balancing at the end of the floating chains. She seemed to be calculating.

"We have to get her down before that lightening hits her," Harry said urgently.

He pointed his wand upwards and shouted "_Accio_ Ginny!" but the spell had very little effect. It only seemed to tug on Ginny's feet while the chains remained firmly high up.

He looked over at Luna to see if she had anything to suggest but she still seemed to be assessing the situation.

"I'll finish the incantation on the chains and you catch her with a levitating charm," Harry commanded to Luna.

"Tricky," Luna commented as though they were discussing how to make pumpkin juice. "Katie Bell is using the Wind Swirl Charm and Neville is using a Windmill spell. If Ginny falls, all that wind will sweep her into the Archway of the Dead."

Sure enough, there was a strong draft around the Arch. Luna's hair was flying backwards as though she was standing in front of a hairdryer.

Harry suddenly wished he had the Elder Wand but rapidly shook the idea out of his mind.

"Can you make something like a bridge?" he asked Luna.

He then saw a jet of red light from the corner of his eye and he pulled Luna out of the way just in time, sweeping her into his arms.

Someone close to the Arch was screamed: "He's there! Potter! Kill him! For the Dark Lord!"

Harry pulled Luna behind him hurriedly and said "_Protego_!" and then the Triskelion was hit by a powerful Stunning Spell. The hooded man was thrown backwards straight into the Gate where he disappeared with a short yell. Harry turned around to see who had cast the spell; standing on a stone bench a few meters above him was a replica of himself.

"Mate, I hate being you!"

Before Harry could reply, another hooded Triskelion sent a spell in the direction of the fake-Harry, which was blocked with a Shield Charm. Someone else yelled "_Expelliarmus_!" and the Triskelion jumped out of sight, having lost his wand. Hermione appeared from behind the fake-Harry, wand aloft. Thunder clashed over their heads and a bolt of lightening landed beside them just as Hermione was trying to shout something in Harry's direction. Seeing that her message had not gotten across, Hermione conjured up her otter-shaped Patronus which glided swiftly towards Harry and Luna.

"Some of them are Death Eaters, not Triskelions," the Patronus said in Hermione's voice. "Ron and I will lure them away while you get Ginny out of here."

"We can't get her down!" Harry shouted at Hermione. However, she did not seem to hear as she and Ron were already on the move.

"I think this will work as a bridge, Harry."

Harry looked over at Luna. Her eyes were fixed on Ginny's position and her wand was making sparks of many colors.

"Do it, Luna!" he said, bracing himself.

Luna flicked her wand from left to right as a painter would and the most beautiful and bright rainbow came out of it in the shape of an arch. The many-coloured bridge grew bigger and bigger until its highest point came in contact with Ginny's toes. Harry touched it with his fingers and it was silky and soft like a long piece of fabric. Stuffing his phoenix-wand into his back pocket and dropping the Invisibility Cloak at Luna's feet, he started his ascension of the rainbow arch, climbing on it on all fours and clawing into the fabric with his fingers.

Luna had been right. It was very windy. From his higher point of view, he could see the full extend of the storm that was now filling the Death Chamber from wall to wall. It seemed to be the result of many curses. Harry caught a glimpse of Professor Flickwick who seemed to be trying to put the lightening cloud under control. But that was all that Harry was able to witness through the wind, smoke and dust. The rainbow arch was being tossed about on all sides and he had to fight very hard to stay on it.

Then, suddenly, he heard: "Potter! I'll get you, Potter!"

He recognized Draganov right away. The Triskelion was guarded by Boris who was blocking all spells sent in their direction. Harry saw at least seven people, including Bill and Charlie Weasley, trying to take them out with different curses. He was able to skive off three or four spells using his Shield Charm but his grip on the rainbow arch was slipping off and he couldn't get a clear view of Boris or Draganov through all that mayhem. He thought that he was going to slip when he heard a yell coming from Draganov. The tall man had been hit by a large boulder that had been directed at him by an angry-looking Mr Weasley. The two Triskelions soon began to recoil after more people came to help the Weasleys so Harry was able to continue his ascend.

He was getting close now, but the wind was intense. Below him, he could see the Archway of the Dead and the airstream that was now swirling around it.

"Harry!"

It was Ginny who had shrieked. She was coming about. He could see her kicking her feet and pulling on her chains with her wrists.

"Watch out!" she shrieked again.

Harry had not seen the whirl of fire that was coming in his direction. The rainbow bridge suddenly dropped in height. Luna, who was still in control of the charmed rainbow, was being surrounded by fire. Harry held up his phoenix-wand, clutching the rainbow with his other free hand, and cast the most powerful Water Spell that he could manage. The fire that was now swirling above the pit was dark magic, but his jet of clear silvery water was causing the fire to retreat.

Lightening was now crashing on top of Ginny's head. He could hear her scream but he could not break his fight against the raging fire and the rainbow was taking him further away from her.

"Harry, clear the way!" Luna suddenly shouted.

She was holding her wand with both hands and Harry was glad to see that she was not on fire.

"Clear the way for Viktor! He's trying to get to her."

Maintaining his Water Spell, Harry looked up and finally saw amongst the clouds, the lightening, the fire and the water, the bent down silhouette of Viktor Krum who was flying on a broom, circling around Ginny, but enable to get to her.

What he needed to clear a path for Viktor was wind, but that would mean that he would be less able to keep the fire at bay. The fire wasn't going to stop; he could hear Boris and Draganov cackling as though they had gone mad. Yet, there was no other option if he wanted to help Viktor save Ginny. Twisting his wand, he exchanged the Water Spell for a Wind Spell. He had not practiced that spell much and it was rather feeble at first. He felt the brush of the wild fire on each side of him, but he kept his concentration and it took only a few seconds for the beam of pure wind to gain strength. He aimed it at the fire and then was able to move it upwards to push the clouds and lightening away from Krum's path. By doing so, he was allowing the fire to get a lot closer to him, but Viktor could now reach Ginny. The Bulgarian Seeker flew his broomstick next to her and grabbed her firmly by the waist, destroying the chains with a whip of his wand as he held her. Then, he zoomed down at the other end of the room and Harry lost sight of them, but at least he knew that Ginny was safe.

The stone that hit him came from behind. It caught him in the back and he lost his grasp on the rainbow arch. He heard several voices cry out "Harry!" as he tumbled down unto the stone-hard bottom of the pit. He felt the gush of wind before he felt the floor. The stream pushed him over and he had to grab the side of the podium to avoid being rolled straight through the Gate. He had not even seen the Archway since in was now shrouded in a cloud of grey dust. It took him a short moment to regain his senses and realise how close his escape had been. He was trying to get up when he felt a hand grab his throat.

"You'll pay for this, Potter. If I can't get you to step through the Arch, then I'll take the Hallows!"

A heavy weight was forcing him on his knees. He knew that it was Karl but he could not see him as he was being held from behind. The grey dust seemed to be everywhere. He couldn't even see if Luna was still on the podium. His phoenix-wand was hopelessly lying next to his knees. If only he could reach it…

Karl Lovech tightened his grip and took something from Harry's pocket: the fake-Elder Wand.

Harry couldn't think anymore. He couldn't breathe. He needed to breathe. He needed his wand. It felt as though his neck was going to break. Black spots were clouding his vision.

"_Stupefy_!" said Luna's voice out of the blue.

The spell shook Lovech and he had no choice but to let go of Harry. But upon seeing Luna, his eyes grew wide and he wheeled around and grabbed her by the hair. She was standing next to the podium and he knocked her head against it.

"_Incarcerate_!" Harry yelled.

His magical bonds seemed to work on the Triskelion during a few seconds, but the strong man muttered a quick incantation and the bonds wittered away like scattering snakes.

As soon as he was free of the bonds, the man dropped from the podium, holding Luna firmly by the neck. _The Cloak_, Harry thought rapidly. _Where's the Cloak?_

He launched after the Triskelion and managed to grab the hood of his cloak. The Triskelion stumbled backwards but the second after he waved his wand in Harry's face and Harry felt a sting on his hand and he fell off the podium. He landed clumsily on a floor of broken rocks and felt a throb on the left side of his rib cage. He looked up only in time to see the strong man Karl pick up the silvery Cloak from the stone floor while still holding an unconscious Luna in his left arm.

"The Stone, Potter, or the girl dies."

He was standing over Harry, powerful and towering.

"You can't step through the Gate," Harry ventured to say. "You're not the heir. You're no one."

But the strong Triskelion did not seem bothered. He took a step forward and placed the tip of the Elder Wand under Harry's chin.

"I'm no one yet, but with _this_, I'll be the most powerful wizard the world has ever known. The Stone, Potter, if you please."

Even though the wand with which he was being threatened was a fake, there was very little that he could do. His left side was burning like lava. He could scarcely draw breath. He had dropped his wand. If he did anything too rash, Lovech might decide to hurt or kill Luna.

Slowly, he reached for the heart-shaped necklace in his pockets, but he did not hand it to the Triskelion just yet.

"Do you even know how it works?" he said tentatively.

"Give me the necklace, Potter!"

"You can't bring back Grindelwald with this," Harry retorted.

"With the Stone and the Wand, I can bring back an army such as you never imagined. Grindelwald's vision will be accomplished."

"You shouldn't bring back the dead. It's _wrong_."

"Enough, Potter! Give me the Stone, or she dies," bellowed Karl Lovech, directing the fake-Elder Wand at Luna's head. "I grow tired of asking."

"All right, I'll do it!" Harry said alarmingly. "Put her down and I'll give it to you."

Harry could see the dilemma on Lovech's face. He was holding the Wand with one hand and Luna with the other hand. He had no free hand to take the Stone with. For Harry, it was the opportune moment to open the heart-shaped locket. The next second, there was a thud as Karl Lovech dropped Luna's unconscious body to the floor.

"Take it," Harry said as he dropped the necklace into the palm of the Triskelion's hand.

The strong man's reaction was instantaneous. He jumped on his feet and seized the Cloak, throwing it on his back so as to cover only part of his body. There was a triumphant look on his face such as Harry had rarely seen.

"Master of the Deathly Hallows!" screamed Lovech. "Stronger than the Three Brothers! The greatest wizard in the world!"

But Harry had already turned the Resurrection Stone, now free of the heart-shaped necklace, three times in the palm of his hand.

"Albus Dumbledore was the greatest wizard in the world," he muttered under his breath.

"_Dumbledore_," Lovech replied with a sneer. "Dumbledore was an old fool who only had a few tricks. I would make Dumbledore _kneel_ before me."

_That would be rather hard for me to do,_ a distant voice said from behind Karl Lovech, _as I have always had a soft spot on my left knee._

Harry could not hold back the surge of joy that he felt at the sight of the Hogwarts Headmaster. The old man appeared through the cloud of grey smoke. He seemed to be not walking but gliding over the path of broken rocks.

"No! You're dead!" yelled the Triskelion.

_Well, this is the Gate to the Underworld_, Dumbledore replied in the same far-off tone, but this time he clearly winked in Harry's direction.

Harry immediately understood. He found his phoenix-wand rapidly, and then he held it high into the air and yelled "_Finite Incantatem_!"

The thunderstorm that was still raging overhead suddenly seemed to freeze as though time had been brought to a standstill. The lightening and all the noise stopped at once and the clouds started to fade away and dissolve into a fine drizzle that fell on the stone pit, settling the dust.

"No!" Karl Lovech screamed again. "I have the Elder Wand!"

But as he waved it, the wand turned into a corn-on-a-cob with a faint _pop_. He then reached out to the Cloak, but found that it was gone. He looked around with a maddened expression on his face, but Luna's body was gone as well. It was obvious that she had taken the Invisibility Cloak and was hiding under it. The Triskelion was beating the empty air with his fists, but it was no use. After all, this was the most perfect cloak of invisibility ever produced.

"NOOOOOOO!"

After that last yell, Karl Lovech fell into his knees and became silent, crushed, and still holding the fake-Elder Wand into his right hand. It seemed almost pointless to put him in bonds, but Harry did it regardless, to be on the safe side. He almost felt sorry for him.

_Don't feel sorry_, said Dumbledore as though he had read Harry's thoughts. _The Hallows did not do that to him; he did it to himself._

Dumbledore was now very close. It seemed to Harry that he should try to say something to the old Headmaster who had been his mentor, but he found that his throat was tight with emotions. He couldn't even open his mouth to say "thank you".

_You should get that looked at_, Dumbledore whispered to Harry with a meaningful glance at Harry left side which he was clutching with his hand.

"Yes, sir," Harry managed to say.

Then suddenly, next to him, Luna's head appeared as she let down the hood of the Invisibility Cloak.

"Does it hurt much, Professor, dying? I've always wanted to ask someone who isn't a ghost."

Dumbledore smiled at her.

_If I told you that, Miss Lovegood, __I wouldn't be living up to my reputation._

"The Gate, sir?" Harry asked, trying hard not to look into Dumbledore's piercing eyes.

The Headmaster let out a long sigh.

_Ah, Harry! I think you have proven on many occasions now that you can make those decisions by yourself._

And with those last words, he looked up and Harry followed his glance. All around the stone pit, the fighting had stopped. The Triskelions were on their knees, their faces revealed. Some of them indeed Harry recognised as Death Eaters. The other people, those who had come to his help, were staring down at Harry and Dumbledore. Harry could see the faces of all of his Hogwarts friends and teachers. All of the Weasleys were accounted for, except Fred. Ron and Hermione were on the stairs; Ron had recovered his traits and Hermione was crying softly. Viktor Krum was on his feet, holding Ginny by the shoulder. She took a step forward as their eyes met, but then she stopped abruptly.

_I should tell you_, Dumbledore began to say, _I am not the only one who wanted to… drop in and say hello._

And suddenly, through the drizzle and the mist, were the faces of all of those who had died in the battle. He saw Lupin and Tonks at first. They were standing hand in hand just behind Dumbledore. Sirius and his parents were also present; they smiled warmly at him. Brushing a tear away from his cheek, he looked up again to see that the stone pit was filled everywhere with smiles and tears. It was utter silence in the room; there were no words spoken. It was as though each person was holding their breath, trying to hold on to that last moment with their loved one. There was only one that he could not see. Where was Fred?

Slowly, the dead ones started to walk, or rather glide, towards the Archway of the Dead. Dumbledore was now standing in front of the Arch; Harry had not even seen him moving. With one last glance at Harry, he disappeared behind the veil. Next, he saw the lovely Mrs Lovegood in a long white dress. He knew that below him Luna was crying. Lupin, Tonks, Sirius and his parents went in afterwards. His mother blew him a kiss. One by one, the ones who had died glided through the Gate, and Harry waited on the podium. He knew now that he had to destroy the Arch, even if he had to do stone by stone.

The room was almost empty when he saw Fred. It was as though the Weasley twin had been hiding. He appeared from behind the Arch.

"_Fred_!" George screamed, breaking the silence. Ginny and Mrs Weasley too let out a small shriek.

George was standing next to a rocket-like device that was pointing at the Stone Arch, and he was at the other end of the stone pit. He started scampering madly down on the path of broken rocks, tripping and nearly falling as he ran.

But Fred kept close to the Arch, and he was looking at Harry with a pleading look.

_I shouldn't have come. He wasn't ready. Don't let him follow me.__ Tell him to… Tell him to live._

And with that last sentence, he disappeared through the Gate, and he was the last of the dead ones to go.

"Wait, Fred!" George screamed as he fell on the last step.

Mrs and Mr Weasley shrieked "George, no!"

However, Harry was already standing in front of the Gate.

"He's gone! He's already gone! Why didn't he wait? Why didn't he stay? What did you tell him?"

"He said that you've got to live, George," Harry said forcibly while holding the twin back with both hand.

"He spoke to you, is that it?" George yelled, pushing Harry with all of his might.

They were both dangerously close to the Gate.

"That's enough, you two," Mr Weasley shouted from up the stairs.

"You call him back!" George bellowed at Harry, pushing him again. "I know you can do it. Call him back now!"

"He's not coming back," Harry replied forcefully, trying to push George backwards again.

George's fist collided with Harry's face with the strength of a Stunning Spell. It forced Harry to lean back against the side of the Archway, but it also allowed him to see, from the corner of his eyes, that Hermione, Ron and Ginny were making their way towards George's rocket launcher. All that he had to do was hold George back a little longer.

"You want to fight?" Harry yelled. "Go ahead, hit me! I'm not going to bring him back."

"I'll do it myself," said George, grabbing Harry's hand in which he still had the Resurrection Stone.

And then they heard the voices. The curtain swayed softly as though it had been moved by a whisper. George stopped abruptly to stare at the empty space in the center of the Arch. He was so close that the black veil brushed against his face.

"Fred, is that you?" said George in a strange and hazy voice.

"Don't go any further."

Harry had stepped in front of George. There was nothing now separating him from the emptiness of the Gate.

"_Levicorpus_!"

Harry had not seen that George had pulled out his wand. He was caught off guard on his right side and sent flying, feet first, into the air. The spell had not been very powerful, probably because George was so distraught. Harry landed at the edge of the podium and saw that Mr and Mrs Weasleys were there as well.

"Georgie," Mrs Weasley said, sobbing, "We don't want to loose you too."

There was something in the way that George stared back at her that told Harry to act now. He didn't even think about it twice. He got to his feet and ran. He just knew that he had to stop George no matter what.

Then, several things happened.

Luna shouted "_Accio_ George!" and the twin was pulled back away from the Arch at the moment where Harry was about to grab him.

There was a bang as the rocket ignited and was set loose towards the Archway.

Sparks of red light and falling rocks seemed to hit Harry all at once.

Then he heard his name, and then all became black.


	29. Chapter 29

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter twenty-nine

At first, he thought that he was dead. It was utterly dark around him. There was no sign of an explosion, or of the heap of rocks that should be on top of him. He knew that he had not Disapparated at the last moment because he had not experience the pulling sensation that he had come to associate with it. All that he knew was that he was laying flat on his belly on a dark, cold, sharp and wet surface. As his eyes got accustomed to the darkness, he also saw that the palms of his hands were badly scratched, but somehow he had managed to hang on to the Resurrection Stone. His body was also aching all over as it had a few minutes ago. _Not dead?_ He thought hopefully. _What is this place then?_

As though answering his question, the space around him suddenly lit up of a pale green glow which seemed to be coming from the ground and not from the ceiling. He got to his feet as best as he could on the slippery floor and the room around him became clearer. His heart sank as soon as he saw the dark rocks and the ghastly greenish water. The cave in which he was standing had a lot in common with the one where he and Dumbledore had fought hundreds of Inferi while recovering a locket in a stone basin. He seemed to have landed on a small isle composed of a single flat rock and there was nothing but water around him. As he peered into the deep, he could see moving pale lights far below and the undulating shapes of dead corpses. _They're not bodies, they're souls_, he thought immediately.

"What did you expect? Fields of gold? A tunnel and a white light? They always think that they've got it figured out."

It took him a few moments to find the speaker who was hiding in the shadows, but when he saw him, Harry had a hard time containing his shock. The man was tall, dark-haired, handsome, and his traits were all too familiar. Yet, there was such a sneer on his face and an air of pride and arrogance about him, that Harry felt that the facade had to be a deception.

"You're not Sirius," he concluded before the other could speak again.

"Very good!" laughed the all-too familiar voice.

He took a few steps closer so that Harry could fully appreciate his appearance.

"I do like this body, though," he added with a self-satisfied smirk. "I think it makes me more lovable, less frightening."

Harry felt disgusted to see so much smugness on his godfather's face, but it wasn't very surprising, considering who he was talking to.

"You're Hades."

"What did you have in mind? Big red man with horns and a pitchfork? Please. I have a lot more style than that."

He was now circling around Harry, appraising him.

"Yes, there is a little of Peverell in you. The resemblance is there."

"But I'm not the heir. I mean, I am a descendant, but I wasn't worthy."

The words had escaped him rapidly, and he bit his lip afterwards, thinking that he ought not to be so straightforward.

"Not worthy, huh? Perhaps. But you are quite interesting, though, aren't you?"

"Am I dead?"

The man in Sirius' body laughed.

"A lot of people want you dead. A lot of people want you to live as well. If death was a popularity contest, there wouldn't be anyone here. That's why I have the Fates; I let them decide. It's a lot easier on my nerves."

With his finger, he pointed at an opening in the wall that had been concealed moments ago. It was far from where Harry was standing, but in it he could see the shape of three old women in black dresses. The first woman was manipulating a fine silvery cloth, the other was weaving thread on a spinning wheel, and the last one was holding the string in one hand and a pair of scissors on the other. The first one looked up and Harry met her stare; her eyes were white lights which seemed to see right through his soul.

"The Weird Sisters," Harry whispered in wonder.

As he spoke, the last of the three women took up the line and cut it with a metallic snap.

"That's another soul for me. She cuts, and I collect. It's a lot less tedious than having to choose who lives and who dies."

Harry couldn't help throwing him a disgusted look, but the Lord of the Underworld seemed unabashed by it.

"But you, you're not like the rest of them. You're a hero. You destroy the villains, regardless of the inconvenience."

"You mean that Voldemort won't get the chance of killing more people?" Harry snapped.

"I mean _this_."

Suddenly, a wet and glistering mass lifted out of the water as though there had been an elevator under it. It dripped for a moment, and then tilted sideways unto the flat rock where Harry was standing. It was sickening to behold: a heap of greyish, boneless, rotting entrails. It didn't look like its parts where in the right places; one of its eyes – thankfully, it was closed – was misplaced at the center of what looked like its forehead. The rest of its limbs were roughly folded over its head.

Harry didn't need to be told to know whose body this was. _No, this isn't Voldemort's_ _body_, he thought. _It's his soul_.

"What do you suppose I ought to do with this?" Hades snorted. "Normally, I'd just throw it down in the pit. The bowels of the Earth, the fires of Hell, eternal suffering, that's where I put all the wicked ones, you know, the ones that don't deserve a nice afterlife. What about this one, though? It's completely destroyed. It's like a car pulled apart and then put back together all wrong. You expect it to run and say 'Please! Please! Not the fires of Hell!' but it doesn't. It just sits there, useless. You're just wondering if maybe it is missing parts, you know?"

"Is it? I mean, the parts are all accounted for, right?"

"I don't know. I don't think there is any way to tell anymore."

There was something very taunting in Hades' tone. It was as though he was daring Harry to ask for a certainty, a confirmation that Voldemort's soul was whole and complete, though not in the right order.

"What are you going to do with it?" Harry asked, trying to avoid the inevitable question.

"It's a waste of space, to be sure," Hades commented with a revolted snort. "I have my standards, even for the Inferno. I shall think of something."

"Why don't you just feed it to the Dementors," Harry offered bluntly.

"Ah, yes! My faithful servants. They don't even want to taste it."

There was a sound of many whispered moans coming from above. Harry looked up and saw that they were being circled overhead by dark silhouettes. He was surprised not to feel the sudden chill of the Dementor's proximity, but he supposed that it was because it was their domain. Nevertheless, they did not seem so scary to Harry anymore, maybe because he had faced them so often or perhaps it was because he was the presence of Death itself.

"They're not too happy about getting the sack," Hades said slyly, following Harry's gaze.

"I'm sure they'll find something else to do."

"They find you fascinating, you know. They always knew that something wasn't quite right inside, and that always draws them in. They find you shaken. They are wondering if there are any breaks."

Harry couldn't help but to shudder at the thought that a piece of that bag of entrails now lying beside him had actually been inside his body, touching his soul. But he had already decided, long before meeting Hades, that he would not change his mind on the subject: he was free of Voldemort. This was his final resolve, and he wasn't going to go back on it.

"My soul is perfectly fine," he retorted.

"Are you sure?"

Harry groaned in impatience.

"Look, why don't you just let me go back, or move on, whichever it is."

"But are you sure you want to go back? You know how it will end. You know the despair, the hurt. You've seen your future."

In his mind, Harry saw a flash of his older self and a glimpse of his three children.

"It wasn't real."

"Are you telling me I don't know the future? I know the future, that's why I showed it to you, so that you may have a choice."

"You mean choose not to have children."

Hades' grin was now so devious that there was hardly any resemblance with Sirius anymore.

"Well, yes. It's the only way that your soul can truly be mine. And no dodgy stuff about producing illegitimate heirs; I won't be fooled this time. In exchange, of course, I'll give you whatever you want. But what does the famous Harry Potter want? The heroic, the brave, the selfless Harry Potter. Of course, you want to do something for your friends. It's amazing how you're always thinking of others first, just as a knight should. It sounds a bit tiresome to me, to be truthful. But let's see who's on my recently deceased list: Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin, Tonks – what kind of name is Tonks? But what am I saying? You don't need my help, do you? You have the Stone."

Harry opened up his hand to look at the powerful black pebble.

"You can take it back. I don't want it."

Hades' grin became wide in delight.

"Wise, very wise. But maybe you should hang on to it, just in case."

Harry's reply was to fling the Stone in the water as far as he could and under Hades' stupefied gaze. But then the Lord of the Underworld laughed mockingly.

"Have it your way, then. To be honest, I don't recommend bringing back the Dead. They always get a little crazy after a while. What else, then? What does the famous Harry Potter want? To be normal perhaps? You could be a Muggle, you know. You could start over with no memories of your past life. I can make you forget all those awful things that happened and give you the happily ever after that you deserve."

But Harry did not want to linger on the idea.

"I don't see what's in it for you," he said defiantly.

"I told you, you're something special. I have great plans for you. So what do you say? Do we have a deal?"

"What does it matter if we make a deal or not if I'm already dead?"

"Well, you're not exactly dead. You're on hold. It's a state you're familiar with, is it not?"

_So I'm not dead_, Harry thought hopefully. This meant that he was physically in the Underworld, but not bond to it. He just had to figure out a way to leave it.

"What if I choose not to make any bargain? Will you just send me back?"

"What for? Do you really want to experience more pain and suffering?"

To Harry, there was an underlying meaning to such an answer.

"So you can't keep me here against my will. What about Sirius?"

"It was his time," Hades sighed. "Not everyone is like you. Do you think I care for plain insignificant Sirius Black? I just took his good looks."

"He fell through the Gate," Harry insisted.

"The Gate doesn't decide."

"Then who…?"

Far ahead, half-concealed in the blackness of the cave, Harry caught another glimpse of the Weird Sisters, or the Fates, whatever their name was. It was the third of the sisters who looked up at him this time.

"What about _my_ time?" He asked.

"It's not your time yet. But believe me, considering what's in store for you, you don't want to live that long. Wouldn't you rather just have peace of mind and a quiet, happy life?"

"You mean a life of doing your bidding," Harry snapped.

"Only a little."

But Harry had heard enough. If it wasn't his time, then he had no reason to remain in the Underworld. Hades had no cause to keep him there.

"No."

"Beg your pardon?"

"No bargain. Send me back."

"Maybe you haven't suffered enough to appreciate the opportunity. How do I make the deal more appealing to you? Tell me. I can give you anything!"

Harry could tell that the Lord of the Underworld was getting a little frantic.

"Don't even try. You have my answer. No bargain!"

"Don't you want to taste a perfect life? I can show you. Don't you want to sample it?"

The water was moving now and there were whispers all around them. Hades put up his hands as though commanding the voices to stop.

"I'm not finished with him!" Hades cried out at large as though he was talking to a third person.

This time Harry heard the voices clearly. There were saying 'Not one of us!' in a persistent crescendo that seemed to be putting Hades out of his mind.

"You have no power over me," Harry said, adding to the growing noise.

The Lord of the Underworld stared at him and laughed cruelly.

"I usually get what I want," he sneered.

But to Harry there was only one certainty: he didn't belong with the Dead.

"You have no power over me!" he shouted on top of his lungs.

And then he fell into icy cold water.


	30. Chapter 30

From the author of "Harry Potter and the Dream Book"

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD Chapter thirty

Panic gripped Harry as he found himself surrounded by dark, icy water. He had no idea how much was on top of him, or how much was below. All that he knew was that he had to kick as hard as he could to reach the surface if he wanted to live. The weight of his clothes was pulling him down so he rapidly got rid of his shoes so that he could swim better.

The breath of air that he took when he reached the surface was like new life being blown into him. There was a narrow stone-hard landing where he was able to hoist himself out of the water. It was utterly dark around him and he seemed completely alone.

_Not another cave_, he thought despairingly.

He was glad to be alive, but his predicament hadn't much improved. He was therefore more alarmed than relieved when he saw a beam of white light coming in his direction. He had already prepared himself to face this new and terrible threat, so he was rather surprised when he saw a small boat turn the corner at the other end of the pool. The beam of light was nothing more than the flashlight belonging to the young man on the boat. He spotted Harry quite rapidly and shouted several words to him in what seemed to be different languages.

"_Parla Italiano? Parlez-vous français?_ Do you speak English?"

"Yes, English!" Harry cried out.

The young man put the flashlight down and took up the oars instead.

"Are you injured? Are you hurt?" he inquired to Harry with a very strong accent that was difficult to make out.

"No, I'm fine," Harry said as the young man drew closer.

His small boat moved smoothly over the water and he was soon helping Harry into it. Harry immediately noticed a medical kit, a blue helmet and various flashlights laid down at his feet. The young man was dressed in blue and his shirt had white characters on it that looked to Harry like foreign lettering. He didn't look much older than Harry was.

"Your friends play silly joke on you, huh?" the young man enquired. His tone was a little annoyed.

"Joke?"

"Not funny! Very dangerous! You tell your friends they could have got you killed, huh?"

As he spoke, he started to stir the boat towards where Harry guessed was the exit.

"American?"

"No, British," Harry replied absent-mindedly. He was more interested with getting out of the cave than in maintaining a conversation.

"British, huh? Usually Americans do this. They want to be _Indiana Jones_, you know. But you, you're _James Bond_, huh? Ha! Ha!"

Harry didn't think this comment was worth a reply. Anyway, they were rowing towards what appeared to be daylight now and Harry couldn't wait to see where exactly he was. The young man was chatting merrily to himself saying "I save James Bond! Ha! Ha!" on top of his head. Harry's concern was only to get out of that cave as soon as possible.

He had never been happier to see the daylight and to stand on grass instead of rocks. Only, he wasn't in a familiar surrounding at all. The cave was but a hole on the side of a rocky hillside. Everything else around him was green: trees as far as the eye could see. There was also a narrow road ahead of him with a few cars and a small bus parked alongside it. Waiting besides the bus was a group of tourists, Japanese by the look of it, taking pictures of the entrance of the cave.

Harry watched them a little as he sat down on a moss-covered rock to take off his socks that were soaked through. He ruffled up his wet hair and tried to squeeze some of the water out of shirt, thinking how easy this would have been with a wand. He had just decided that walking bare feet was his best option when he spotted an information sign on his right giving indications about the cave. He tried to read it, but it was all in a foreign language so he decided to ask the young guide who had rescued him instead.

"Where…?" he began to say, catching the young man who was walking past him.

"You not know where you are, right? It happens. People come out of the cave all lost. Water not good to drink, James Bond! _Diros_ Caves. Gates of Hell, if you believe."

"Gates of… _what_?"

"Greek legend. Mythology. Gates of Hades, this place."

Harry's mind was racing with this new information.

"Greek? I'm in _Greece_?"

The young man patted him on the back.

"Don't worry," he laughed. "You not dead, James Bond! Ha! Ha!"

And he walked away to join another group of tourists all wearing blue helmets.

"Great! Greece," Harry said to himself while trying to dry off his glasses with the rim of his shirt. "How ever am I going to get back?"

A Japanese woman who had been looking at the information sign minutes ago suddenly wheeled around to stare at him.

"You speak English? Thank Heavens! I can't understand a word anyone is saying around here. Bless you! Would you mind taking a pic…? Oh, My Lord! You're Harry Potter!"

The Japanese woman was now looking at him up and down with wide eyes, and then her stare fell on his forehead where, undoubtedly, she saw the lightening scar. Next to her, a girl of about 9 or 10 years-old seemed equally in shock.

"Err… Yeah. That's my name," he said, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks.

The woman shook her head and then started rummaging through her handbag fretfully. She seemed to be trying her best to refrain her enthusiasm in the presence of so many Muggles.

"Oh, where is that picture camera…?"

"It's in your rucksack, mum," the girl sighed.

They were both speaking perfect English. The girl had sleek and long black hair that reminded Harry of Cho.

"I'm going to Hogwarts next year," said the girl matter-of-factly. "I want to be in Gryffindor like you, and I want to play Quidditch too. Is it true first years are not allowed to bring their broomsticks? You're a Seeker, right? I think I'll try out for Chaser."

"Err… I have friends who played Chasers," Harry replied, unsure which question he ought to answer first.

"Well, of course! You were Quidditch Captain! I'm going to get a broomstick for my birthday."

"Oh, there it is," the girl's mother declared. She was now holding up her camera. "Would you terribly mind…?"

She waved at another woman who was standing nearby and asked her quickly in Japanese if she could take a picture of her and her daughter with Harry in the middle. Harry didn't object as he was more than happy to meet a witch in this place. It was going to make things easier for him.

The young guide who had rescued him from the cave seemed to find the scene fascinating. "You famous, James Bond?" he yelled at Harry.

The other young guides were laughing as well.

"He's Harry Potter, stupid _jerks_," the girl breathed out after throwing them a reproving look. "You're all happy and alive because of him." She turned to Harry. "Is it true You-Know-Who wanted to kill all Muggle-borns? My mum is Muggle-born."

"Satsuki!" her mother said indignantly. "Sorry about that, Harry."

"No, it's okay." Then, turning to the girl, he added: "Voldemort had plans, yes, but you don't need to worry about him anymore. It's over now."

"You heard that, mum? And he said You-Know-Who's _name_!" the girl let out in wonder.

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug and mouthed a silent "thanks" to Harry.

"I need to get back to London, in the Ministry of Magic," Harry said, seizing the opportunity. "You don't by any chance know how to…?"

"Oh, dear! Don't you have your wand?"

"I left it… behind," Harry replied, hoping very much that his phoenix-wand was still in the Death Chamber and intact.

"Well, it's not a problem, dear. It's the least I can do, truly. Hold on."

Taking the girl by the hand, she went back to the group of Japanese tourists, spoke with them for a minute, then dropped a kiss on her daughter's head and came back to Harry without her travel bag. She pulled him behind the information sign without ceremony. They were only partly concealed, but she seemed satisfied.

"You are accustomed to Side-Along Apparition, right? Well, here we go!"

***

They Apparated straight into the Ministry of Magic's atrium. The Japanese woman did not seem troubled at all by the fact that they had crossed such a distance in the space of a few seconds. However, it took a moment for Harry to recover his bearings. It had been day in Greece, but the Ministry of Magic was empty and dimly lit as though it was the middle of the night.

"There you are, Harry. Is there anything else I can do?" the woman said. She was smiling at him kindly but her eyes were circling the room as though she expected some intruder to jump up at them.

"I'll be fine. Thanks for your help."

"I can fight, you know," she said with a resolute tone, her eyes still circling the room. "If you're in trouble, I'll stay and help you. It's the least I can do. Just tell me what to do."

Harry felt very thankful, but he didn't think that there was need for it.

"Honestly, I'm fine. _Really_. But thanks again."

She kissed him on the cheek which made Harry feel a little awkward, and then she took a few steps back and just before she disappeared, she let out shrilly: "Harry Potter! No one is going to believe me!"

And then Harry was alone.

He couldn't help but smile. He had never been so happy to be famous. For once, it had proven to be a helpful situation. And there was something so kind and amiable in that woman and her daughter that he sincerely hoped that he would see them again.

What he really wanted to do now, though, was to find Ginny and the others. He set out at once towards the elevators. It was a bit strange and uncanny to walk along the empty entrance Hall while he knew what kind of battle had taken place in the lower levels. Nothing seemed to be stirring at the present time, except for Harry's soggy footsteps (his clothes were still soaked), which made him realize that he had no idea how long he had been gone. In fact, he thought as he came closer to the elevators, he wasn't sure that walking straight into the Department of Mysteries without any clear idea was such a great plan. After all, he did not know the battle's final outcome. Or was it even over?

From the corner of his eyes, he saw movement in the shadows and something like a silhouette.

He immediately took a few rapid steps towards the golden statue, hoping to hide next to it, and while he was doing so he heard scattering footsteps. He quickly looked around to see if he could find anything to defend himself with, but it was a fruitless attempt. Then, suddenly, all of the doors from the many elevators swung open at once and a large crowd of people walked out into the Hall.

Harry was sure that he knew at least half of them: Hogwarts students, teachers, students' parents, acquaintances. However, there was no sign of Ginny, Ron, Hermione, or the other Weasleys. All of the people gathered seemed rather distraught. Some were crying and others were holding friends by the shoulders. They were not moving very fast as though not wanting to leave. None of them seemed to notice Harry, standing alone as he was, next to the golden statue.

His thoughts were all on his closest friends and finding out if they were all right. He thought of walking into one of the elevators. If he was quick enough, then no one would notice him.

He was about to make his move when he was suddenly assailed.

"I – WILL – HAVE – ORDER!" a voice shouted with unconcealed rage.

Harry saw the figure of Dolores Umbridge jump out of the shadows and run towards him, wand in hand. He saw the eyes of everyone in the Hall turn in his direction. _Do something_! He thought hopelessly seeing that everyone was rooted on the spot in shock. And then –

"_Expelliarmus_!"

The wand was knocked out of Umbridge's hand. She was thrown backwards by the strength of the spell and her head collided painfully with the centaur of the golden statue. Umbridge fell on the floor, unconscious.

Harry turned his stare at the gathered people to see who had cast the powerful spell. Sure enough, Neville Longbottom was standing a few steps in front of everyone else with his wand held in the position that Harry had thought him at the DA meetings. The young Gryffindor's face was white and his eyes were red. He seemed frozen in disbelief, as was the rest of the assembly.

The truth of what he was walking into hit Harry like a ton of bricks.

_They thought I was dead!_

He was about to say something when he saw her, pushing her way through the crowd of people, her hair red like a flare.

Harry couldn't tell if _he_ ran towards her or if _she_ ran towards him. They only thing that he was sure of was the roar of cheers that filled his ears when they collided with each other. And after that he couldn't see anything but her. It didn't matter that a lot of people were watching, or that she was crying, or that he was soaked. He only wanted to kiss her, to hug her, to smell and touch her, and then to kiss her again.

"Don't – ever – die – on – me – again!" Ginny managed to say between sobs.

She seemed to be weeping and laughing all at once. She took his face between her hands and kissed him passionately.

"Are you okay?" he said uneasily, looking her over, taking her hands. She had cuts and bruises everywhere.

"Yes! Harry, it's just a few scratches! I thought you were dead! _Again_!"

"Well, I couldn't just leave you, could I?"

As he said this, he saw the figures of Ron and Hermione appear through the crowd. They both had red eyes and bloody stains all over their clothes. When Hermione saw him, she shrieked with such intensity that it renewed Ginny's crying.

Hermione's hug knocked all the breath out of him. Ron's embrace was equally sincere.

"You were gone! You were _dead_!" Hermione cried.

He could scarcely hear her through the cheering, the clapping and the sobbing.

"We thought we killed you with the rocket, mate," Ron uttered almost apologetically. "But you were gone, you know, your _body_ wasn't there. Then we thought… like Sirius…"

He couldn't finish his sentence; his voice was breaking. He turned away to wipe his eyes and nose with the back of his hand. Then he tried to say more, but the words did not seem to come out so instead he presented to Harry a piece of folded cloth. It was the Invisibility Cloak, a bit dirty, but otherwise unaffected. Harry took it with sincere thanks. There was something else with the cloth too. To Harry's relief, his phoenix-wand had been salvaged from the Death Chamber.

"That's all we found when we shifted the remains of the Archway," Hermione murmured. "If the rocket hadn't killed you, then the rocks… but there was no blood…"

"I reckon I fell through the Gate before it blew up," Harry cut in.

"Through it?" Hermione gasped, her face growing paler than it already was. "Oh, Harry! But you didn't. Tell me you didn't!"

"No bargain," he said triumphantly. "It didn't even come close."

"Not tempted, huh?" Ron mumbled, though Harry couldn't help but read a little scepticism in his tone of voice.

"Well, he did offer me a new life as a Muggle, but I couldn't have parted with any of you and, you know, I'd miss Quidditch."

They all laughed. Hermione's cheeks were wet with tears and Ron drew her into a tight hug. Harry turned to Ginny, intending to kiss her again, but he was almost knocked over by Neville Longbottom who gave him a brotherly hug. Next to Neville came Viktor Krum whose eyes looked slightly wet, to Harry's astonishment. As Harry glanced at the people around him, he realised that he was surrounded by members of the DA, and that all of them seemed to be accompanied by a parent or friend. There were also a good number of individuals all wearing red shirts and fur capes. Harry even recognised one of the Movieplex wizards. These were all the people who had come to join the battle at Hermione's and Krum's request. It was a bit overwhelming to see how many people there were.

Ginny seemed to catch what he was thinking.

"Let him breathe!" she said, interposing herself.

Harry thought it would be a good moment to kiss her again, but he realised that she wasn't looking at him anymore.

"What is going on here?"

The voice he heard was that of Mr Weasley, standing behind Harry. The rest of the Weasleys had just come out of the elevator at once. It was an awkward moment that quickly turned into surprise and then, a tearful reunion. Mrs Weasley shrieked in the same manner as Hermione. All of them seemed thorn between tearfulness and joy, crying and laughing all at once. There was a succession of hugs from Mr and Mrs Weasley, Percy, Charlie, Bill, Fleur and finally, George.

Bill and Charlie were standing watchfully on each side of their brother and when George hesitated, they pushed him forward.

"Sorry, mate," said George awkwardly. "I reckon I lost it. _Again_."

Harry didn't need to hear more apologies. He swung his arms around George and hugged him warmly, which renewed Mrs Weasley's sobs.

They had barely pulled apart when Ginny came straight to her brother and punched him hard on the shoulder.

"Stupid _git_," she said with tone that was very similar to her mother's. "If you hit Harry again, I'll turn you into a potty."

There was general laughter which was perhaps amplified by the euphoria of the people gathered. Harry accepted many more congratulations for beating another villain. Mr and Mrs Weasley engaged in thanking everyone present for coming so quickly. There was another thunder of applause when Viktor Krum and his group were introduced.

"I don't love him," Ginny said out of the blue.

She was standing close to him and she put her hand in his.

"There's a very simple reason for that, you know."

And when Harry gave her a quizzical look, she said: "He's not you."

They kissed once more and this time Harry forgot that they were surrounded with people and that Ron and Hermione were watching.

"Can't you keep the snuggling to a minimum?" Ron mumbled. Then he said "_What_? _She's my sister_!" as Hermione nudged him in the ribs.

But Harry wasn't laughing. Out of the corner of his eye, he had just caught a glimpse of the unconscious Dolores Umbridge who was hovering steadily near the golden statue. Two Aurors that Harry didn't know personally were performing the necessary Charms to bind her and hold her in the air.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny seemed to have followed his stare.

"Can you believe she was here all along?" Hermione said quietly. "They were looking for her everywhere."

"Shacklebolt reckons she's lost it," Ron added in an equally low voice. "She sent some of the hate-mail you got."

"What will happen to her now?" Ginny asked, turning to her older brother who was standing behind her.

"She'll be sent to Azkaban to receive a fair trial, as will all the Death Eaters and now, the Triskelions," Percy said gravely.

It suddenly dawned on Harry that he had no idea what had become of the Triskelion Karl Lovech and his followers.

"You caught them?" he asked to Percy. "But are they all in custody? Did you catch all of them? What about their leader?"

"Relax, mate," Ron intervened, taking Harry's arm as though he meant to refrain his temper. "It's all over. Once the Gate went (Ron made a crashing noise) _ka-boom_, it only took like ten seconds for Krum's guys to round up all of the Triskelions. Some of them tried to make a run for it. I reckon a lot of them got more than what they bargained for. Anyway, Shacklebolt's got it under control."

"That's easy for you to say," Percy cut in. "You don't have to go to work tomorrow to sort out this mess."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it when she saw a tall dark-haired woman approaching purposely towards them.

"Well, does anyone feel like we should go home now?" Ron said hurriedly and uneasily.

"Too late," Hermione uttered. "Here she comes."

Seeing how solemnly Percy made way for the new comer, Harry could only guess that she was a woman of some importance.

"Arabella Cremoni, Head of the Aurors Department," she said, extending her hand to Harry.

While he was shaking her hand, Harry heard Ron mutter his breath: "_Newly-appointed_ Head of the Aurors Department."

"That would be a given, Mr Weasley," Mrs Cremoni replied markedly. "I would not underestimate Mr Potter's intelligence in assuming that any of the previous Heads of Department are still in place."

Harry saw Ron straightened up in front of the imposing woman in a way that he had never seen his friend in the presence of a person of authority.

"I was only pointing out how _recent_ your appointment has been, ma'am. Less than forty-eight hours, I reckon."

"That's quite right, Mr Weasley, and in that very short period of time, I've had to bring Mr Potter back from the dead _twice_."

Harry could help but half-smile and retort: "Well, I can assure you that it won't happen again."

"You're going to have to do more than that, Potter. There's a real mess down there. I can't just allow you and your friends (she glanced disdainfully towards Ron and Hermione) to walk out of here without _some_ explanation."

"But…" Hermione began to say, "Shacklebolt gave us a free pass! You're not to interrogate any of us today."

"That was when Mr Potter was believed to be dead, Miss Granger. Now, Mr Potter and I have a lot to talk about."

"You leave Harry out of this!" Ron let out indignantly.

"Obviously, I cannot," Mrs Cremoni said between gritted teeth.

Harry thought that the glare in Ron's eyes would have been enough to make everyone back off. However, the Head of Department did not look like she was ready to let go easily.

"Well, Mr Potter?"

Harry was about to reply when he was suddenly cut off.

"Arabella, might I have a word?"

Harry had not seen Mr Weasley join them as they were talking to the Head of Department. Ron's dad quickly took Mrs Cremoni's arm and pulled her a little apart from the group. This took Harry, Ron and Hermione by surprise, but it didn't seem odd to Percy and Ginny.

"Dad's really good at this. Watch," Ginny whispered to Harry's ear.

Ron and Hermione did not even pretend to hide the fact that they were trying to eavesdrop.

"I understand that you have a job to do," they heard Mr Weasley say. "And you want to do it now."

"No, you don't understand. You're too emotionally involved."

"I'm like you, Arabella. I tend to get emotional when it concerns putting the Ministry back together. Some wounds are going to take longer to heal. Your department has lost more than others."

"Has dad used the 'I'm like you' yet? That's always a winning sign," George asked, joining them as they were all listening intently to the conversation, as were a lot of people around them.

"_Shush_," Ginny said.

"... and I cannot just hero-worship him like the rest of the wizarding world!"

Mrs Cremoni's voice seemed to have startled the entire Hall. Once she saw that she had everyone's attention, she took a few rapid steps towards one of the elevators. She made a movement with her wands and suddenly all of the doors swung opened, each of them revealing an Auror and a Triskelion. Harry immediately recognised Draganov; he was pearly white and his body seemed rigid as though under a Body-Bind Curse. Boris, on the other hand, seemed perfectly conscious and he was peering through a red, electric-like bubble. Some of the others were hooded or simply limp or hovering like Umbridge. And then, Harry's eyes fell on Karl Lovech, his hands tied behind his back, who was looking at him loathingly.

"Murderer!" cried a female voice. "He killed the Dark Lord!"

A woman wearing a hood and a cape was struggling to free herself from her captor. Harry immediately saw at least twenty people raise their wands in a defensive way, including Ron, Hermione and Ginny.

That's when he noticed it. _Ginny has the Elder Wand_, he thought. Yet it didn't look like Dumbledore's wand at all; it was sleek without any knots and of a greyish-green color. Was it possible that the appearance of the Wand had changed?

When Ginny saw his stare, she winked.

"Do you expect me to take these people to Azkaban without clear charges?" Mrs Cremoni declared to the assembly.

"They're Death Eaters!" Ron shouted indignantly.

The rest of the assembly was silent.

"Not all of them," the woman replied. Moving towards the Triskelion Karl Lovech, she asked at large: "What about _these_ people? What do you have to accuse them of?"

"They're Triskelions, Madam," Hermione declared importantly.

"That _may_ be so, Miss Granger. However, we do not chuck people in Azkaban with a life sentence just for being part of a non-existent secret society."

"You do for Death Eaters," Ron snapped back, outraged.

"That's because all Death Eaters are notorious criminals. Everyone is entitled to a fair trial, Mr Weasley."

"But, the Triskelions have tried to kill Harry. They kidnapped Ginny as well," Hermione insisted. She seemed a little taken aback by this turn of event.

"Well, I guess I shall have to take everyone's testimonies, then. Miss Granger."

There were murmurs of consternation all across the Hall.

"What? Tonight?" Ginny burst out, not hiding her dismay.

Harry half-expected to see sparks coming out of her wand, but he saw none.

Just then, the tall and impressive Kingsley Shacklebolt came through the crowd to address the Head of Department.

"Arabella, is this really necessary?" he said without introduction.

"Minister, you put me in charge of the Aurors Department so that we might restore some basic regulations. I don't believe that Mr Potter here is above regulations."

Shacklebolt's reply was lost through the whispering crowd. Then Harry saw Kingsley give directions to the Aurors who were keeping the prisoners under control. Lovech did not protest when he was pushed back into the elevator; however, Harry distinctively saw a malevolent smirk on his face that was directed to him.

"Time to go," Ron whispered to Harry's ear.

Hermione and Ginny had already turned their back to the scene and they were pulling Harry onwards towards the exit.

"Wait a moment!" cried the Head of the Aurors Department. "I'm ordering the four of you to stay where you are."

Hermione wheeled around so fast that it made Harry loose balance.

"You can't _order_ us to do anything! You don't have that authority!"

"Actually, she does. Isn't that right, Minister?" Percy said unexpectedly.

Kingsley Shacklebolt looked at Percy gravely and replied: "I'm afraid so, Weasley, unfortunately."

All of his brothers were staring at Percy as though they wanted to hit him.

"However," Percy continued unabashedly, "there is an interesting detail that must be considered. You see, according to Ministry records, Harry Potter died this evening a whole hour ago when the Archway of the Dead collapsed on top of him. As you know, it takes a lot of paperwork to bring someone back to life, and I am not inclined to go all the way up to my office at this time of the night."

The reproachful grins directed at Percy suddenly all became wide smiles.

"_Not inclined_," Mrs Cremoni replied angrily, her face turning a vivid shade of red.

"Indeed, it says on our work convention that we shouldn't be in the office after 11 pm except by special authorisation by the Head of Department," Percy declared with a nod in the direction of his father.

"Oh, yes!" Mr Weasley joined in happily, mimicking Percy's official tone. "Well, I haven't got an authorisation form on me, that's too bad," he added, looking roughly through his pockets to add to the mockery.

George, Charly and Bill were laughing openly now.

"Oh, well. I guess all this tedious paperwork can wait for the morning, don't you think so dad?" Percy offered.

"After breakfast and a long cup of tea, son."

Mr Weasley took Percy by the shoulders and together they turned their backs to the Head of Department.

This seemed to give everyone the cue to leave. Neville and Luna took the lead towards the exit. Krum signalled to his group with a few words in Bulgarian and two by two the headed towards the fireplaces. Ron and Hermione were already a few steps ahead of Harry and Ginny. There were more congratulating and thanking as the crowd scattered in the wide Hall. The idea of giving testimonies seemed forgotten at the present time. Yet, Harry couldn't help but to stare back at the lonely Head of Department, Mrs Arabella Cremoni, who was left behind, fuming. He wouldn't have felt bad for her if she hadn't been yelling at them.

"All right, then! Go! Have a good sleep, while I try to sort out this mess!"

"Should we tell her that we'll be back tomorrow to help the Aurors?" Bill said to Percy as they walked pass Harry.

Harry didn't hear Percy's reply; it was lost through the laughter and the farewells. And then, Ginny kissed him and the idea of leaving in the Ministry of Magic became more than tempting. He felt a bit sorry for the Head of Department, but he knew that Kingsley, Mr Weasley and Percy would not let her down. There was no reason why he couldn't have a few hours of peace after everything that had happened.

Ginny pulled his arm and he was soon walking steadily towards the end of the Hall. It was such a relief to know that he was going to rest.

"Perhaps I should release those Triskelions until I have something to accuse them of," Mrs Cremoni's voice boomed again and on top of the noisy crowd. Or maybe I'll release the Death Eaters as well, just to keep things interesting for you."

Her shouting made Harry stop abruptly, and the crowd seemed to follow him. Ginny turned towards Mrs Cremoni with fire in her eyes. Hermione seemed ready to throw a curse at the woman as well. However, Harry decided that it was his turn to speak up.

"_Interesting_?" he said, taking a step ahead of the crowd. "You want things to get more _interesting_? How about you take a little trip to Azkaban? I think you will find that the Dementors are rather absent from their stations. That would make the prison a lot harder to guard, wouldn't it? If you want to give your people something _interesting_ to do, I suggest you start there and take those criminals with you. Otherwise, you and I, we'll have a very _interesting_ day when all those angry Death Eaters come banging at the door. I wonder how you're going to like it, living with a death mark on your head. I can give you a few insights on that: it isn't cheerful, and it certainly isn't _interesting_. You can't sleep, you can't think, sometimes there's nothing but the fear. So after a year of that, or seven years, I'm telling you, you're going to need a little bit of peace."

He stopped. The words had come quite rapidly and the appalled expression on Mrs Cremoni's face made him think that he might have been too harsh.

The crowd was silent. All he could hear was Ginny's breathing close to his side.

"It's going to take a while, you know," he added calmly. "But eventually, things will go back to normal. We just need…"

He couldn't finish his sentence. The perspective of going back to a normal life, after everything that had happened, after so many had died, seemed like a distant dream. Now that it was truly going to take place, he felt overwhelmed.

"Time," Ginny concluded. "We need time."

Her eyes seemed to peer right through him. Harry thought that he had said enough. He started to walk away again, holding on tight to Ginny's hand, but with no intention to stop until he was home.

"Give us a few days off, and then we'll come and help you," George shouted brightly in the direction of the Head of Department.

Ron turned to Harry with a large smile on his face.

"Is that like a job?" he asked. "I haven't given up on becoming an Auror, you know. What about you, Harry?"

"Sounds good to me. But, you know, nobody's above the rules. I think we should submit our applications just like we're supposed to. Do you think we'll be able to find people to write us letters of recommendation?"

"I don't know. How many do we need?"

Harry looked around him at the crowd of fifty or more people who had come to his aid. Ginny followed his stare and then, with large smile, she concluded:

"How many do you _want_?"


	31. epilogue

A word from the author: This epilogue is in response to a lot of readers who wanted Harry to tell Ginny about the Horcruxes and everything else. Also, I think it gives more closure to the story. Thanks to everyone for the reviews and for reading 30 chapters!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, etc.

Enjoy !

HARRY POTTER AND THE ARCHWAY OF THE DEAD

Epilogue

This would be a Christmas like no other; he would make sure of it. In fact, he could not remember being this much enthusiastic about any other Christmas or party before that. All of them had been filled with dread or fear of what lay ahead. There had always been this silent threat present, following him wherever he went, at the Burrow, at Hogwarts, or even at the Dursley's. He had not known it then, but he had carried a piece of Voldemort's soul with him. Only now could he fully appreciate how free he was without that presence in his mind and weight on his shoulder. Now he could be a normal teenager. Or was he a young man now? He couldn't really tell which it was, but it was still a good general feeling.

_Well, almost normal_... he thought, and then he couldn't help smiling to himself as he waved his wand and the entire content of a cardboard box soared into the air and landed neatly on the branches of a gleaming Christmas tree. The candles were burning by themselves without any tedious criss-crossing wires. The wooden soldiers hanging on each branch were shooting sparkles every now and then. And when they weren't shooting, they were arguing amongst themselves about who had the best spot on the tree.

There was the thud of the front door opening and closing, and he couldn't help but feel thrilled at the idea that he was not jumping at every sound. The state of his nerves had definitely improved.

The voice too was familiar, and unquestionably welcomed. "I could use some help!"

A figure appeared in the living room, red-haired, and with snow her emerald-green witch's robe. Her arms were filled with jars, bags, paper-wrapped boxes and other Christmas goodies. Harry immediately noticed the scent of spices around her, like ginger and cinnamon, but also another stingy smell.

"Here, take this," she said, dropping a heavy cauldron into his arms. "It's essence of Dittany. Mum thought you might have run out."

"Well, one can never have enough essence of Dittany," he replied jokingly.

She smiled.

"The joking definitely means that you managed the Christmas tree."

"We duelled for a while, but I won."

He couldn't help it. He was happy; there was no other word for it. All that he wanted to do was to take Ginny into his arms and kiss her for all eternity.

"Stop with the staring and the grin, will you?" she teased him. "Let's see that tree."

She followed him into the living room and he followed in her footsteps. And then, she was almost knocked down by a small toy plane. His enthusiastic tree decorating seemed to have turned into a fire hazard. The candles were small firecrackers. The toy soldiers were evacuating the tree and the fake-snow had melted into the floor.

"I thought you said you won!" Ginny yelled over the noise of a fire engine that was invisible.

She pulled out her wand, the Elder Wand, and as she waved it, the decorations reverted back to their original states. She waved her wand again and the candle lights turned red and green. With a final twist, she created silver-white snowflakes to replace the melted snow.

Harry couldn't help but smile.

"You really have the hang of that wand," he commented.

"I think I do," she replied as she was stuffing it back in the back pocket of her black skirt. "It doesn't do anything funny. I think it chose me, you know?"

"Yeah, I reckon you're right."

"Shouldn't we be preparing this party or what?"

"It depends," he said, bringing her closer to him.

"Depends on what?"

"_This_."

The kiss that followed was something that he would remember for years.

The rest of the preparations were completed reasonably fast given the constant romantic impulses.

He had invited his closest friends to a Christmas party at Grimmauld place. Everyone was welcomed to bring a date, and he knew that each of them would. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were not the only ones feeling the romantic impulses. It seemed every day now that the _Daily Prophet_ was reporting a new engagement or wedding. It was a well-known fact now that the Boy Who Lived had found love at the Burrow. Harry had moved into Grimmauld place shortly after the trip to Durmstrang, and Ginny had become a part of the place as well. She had the habit of bringing little bits of the Burrow every time she visited: a chair, a rug, some house care books Mrs Weasley didn't want anymore, colourful pillows to make the living room more comfortable, an old lamp that Mr Weasley had fixed ("fascinating, these light bulbs!") and, which Harry liked the most, a large family portrait taken at the opening of Fred and George's joke shop. He had hung that picture in the hallway so that he could see it as often as possible. On it, Ginny wore a forest-green dress, a _very short_ dress, with a black cloak and a white ribbon in her hair. Hermione was in the picture too, standing close to Harry and at a little distance from Ron and his brothers. This was, to Harry, the best family portrait he could ever have.

The hours passed rapidly at preparing the party, and Grimmauld place was soon full of guests. Overall, Harry was proud of his arrangement but he openly credited the cooking to Kreacher. The house-elf had indeed outdone himself in the area of salads, mashed potatoes, roast beef and, to Fleur's delight, _ratatouille_.

After a while of running back and forth to the kitchen to give Kreacher a hand, Harry was glad to sink quietly into the sofa, with his plate on his knees, and listen to the ongoing conversations while he hate his delicious meal. The next best thing was that Ginny came to sit besides him.

"Excellent meal, Harry dear," Mrs Weasley complimented him.

Ginny looked at him fondly and he had to look more closely at his plate to avoid blushing.

"He did very well," she said. "And, I might add that all was accomplished _without_ the help of Hermione Granger."

"Hermione Granger!" said Mr Weasley, raising his Butterbeer, "to whom we owe this wonderful record player!"

Ron's dad had indeed spent a good part of the evening observing what he considered to be a work of art.

Hermione couldn't stop apologising about it. "My granddad was going to get rid it," she said apologetically to Fleur.

"_Alors là, bravo! __On a pas finit de se faire casser les oreilles_," she mumbled to Bill while taking his arm.

"It's the pregnancy. It must be hormones or something. She actually likes music," Bill said to Hermione apologetically.

"We should be giving _you_ presents," Ron commented in a soft voice to Hermione's ear. They were both sitting next to Harry on the sofa and Ron kept trying to take Hermione's hand, but she seemed a little shy to do it in front of everybody. "We'd probably be dead if it wasn't for you, 'Mione."

As he said this, Ginny made a grin that was reminiscent of George. "You don't have to tell me that, _Ronald_. I was only teasing. In fact, I _know_ more than you think."

Hermione gasped. "You _know_? Harry, what exactly does she _know_?"

He couldn't suppress a smile when he saw Ron and Hermione's bewildered faces, and then he said simply: "Everything."

Ron looked incredulous. "What? Really, _everything_? Including the You-know-what's?"

"Yep."

"When did you tell her?" Hermione enquired.

Ginny lowered her voice. "It was the day that Harry moved in, or out, whichever way you want to look at it."

Hermione had a tear in her eye. "Harry, I'm so proud of you!"

"You were right. It felt so much better afterwards…"

He couldn't finish his thought. Hermione had wrapped her arms around his neck and she was kissing him on the cheeks.

"OK, enough kissing my girlfriend," Ron said after a few seconds.

The rest of the evening was a succession of presents, Butterbeers, hugs, kisses, and even the occasional tearful speech. Mr Weasley raised his glass to all of those who weren't present anymore but who gave their lives so that Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, could vanquish the most powerful wizard of all times.

"Does that make Harry the most powerful wizard of our time?" Luna commented musingly.

Everyone laughed as though she had just made a joke, but Harry knew that she was being serious.

He began to say "I really don't think…" while thinking hard how to turn this into a joke when he was interrupted by Neville Longbottom.

"Most powerful wizard of our time, huh? In your dreams, Potter," he said, patting Harry's back. "Don't ever forget that _I_ killed the snake."

There was a great deal of laughter after that. The presents were great, of course. Ron gave Hermione a Weasley pin, which brought her to the verge of tears for the third or fourth time during the course of the evening (so far). Harry gave Ginny a Firebolt, Victory Edition. And Teddy Lupin got a huge fire engine from his godfather.

"I think I like being a godfather," he said happily to Ginny as he was playing with the little boy.

Her only reply was a smile full of love and meaning.

It was well after midnight that Harry started to feel the need for some peace and quiet. He was looking for an excuse to run upstairs for a few minutes when he heard Teddy crying. Mrs Tonks was already on her feet.

"I'll handle it, Mrs Tonks. Stay here. Enjoy the tea," Harry said rapidly.

He heard her say "Remus and Nymphadora couldn't have made a better choice for my grandson" as he climbed the stairs two by two, but he was only too happy to be escaping the noise and the talk, only for a little while. Also, the constant praising was getting on his nerves.

Teddy's crib had been set up in the master suite. It was a large but dark room with a burgundy rug and a large bed that Harry had not slept in yet. He much preferred Sirius's old bedroom which felt more like his own. Besides, he had not managed to get the master suite's large window clean, therefore the room was too dark for his taste.

As soon as he entered the suite, he knew what to do. Harry waved his wand to turn on the night light. The crying stopped instantly. The toddler looked up, smiled at his godfather, and then turned on his side and went back to sleep.

"This isn't so hard," Harry murmured as he pulled the blanket over the curled up child.

"Well, well. Is this one yours? Aren't you a little young?"

Harry wheeled around, startled by the voice that was coming from behind him. His wand was already in his hand.

He cried the first thing that came to his mind. "What are doing here? Get away from him!"

The man who looked like Sirius Black took a few steps into the light. He looked very handsome with the black velvet coat and the wavy hair tucked behind his ears. However, the smugness, the self-importance, Harry knew it all too well, and so he understood right away that he wasn't talking to Sirius.

"This would really be ironic, you know," said the Lord of the Underworld, circling around the room while Harry followed him with his wand. "_You_, stepping in to protect a child, and dying in the process. It would be a suitable end, don't you think?"

"Are you here to kill me?"

The man let out an irritated sigh. "I don't _kill_ people. That's not what I do."

"Then, what do you want?"

Harry kept following him with his wand. He wanted to keep a distance between Hades and Teddy's crib.

"Just to let you know that my offer still stands," Hades replied. "I could give you the life you always wanted, without the pain or the hurt. The hurt is going to happen, you know."

The Lord of the Underworld picked up a picture of the Weasleys and then a picture of the order of the phoenix. These were the things that Harry had put around the little boy to make him feel more at home. Now he wished that he could smash them on Sirius's head.

"I already told you that I'm not interested," he said between gritted teeth.

Hades let out a cruel laugh. "We'll see. Things can change, and they will, especially for you. I mean that you're _you_. People are lining up just to get a shot at you. The rest of them want to die for you. It's the kind of situation where someone could get hurt again."

"Do you think I don't know that?" Harry burst out. "I already said that I don't want your help."

He had to calm down. He didn't want a confrontation, not with Teddy in the room anyway.

"Yes, well," Hades continued, "it's a beautiful night. Christmas Eve and all that. A lot of things can happen on such a night."

A dozen different scenarios rushed to Harry's head and pretty much all of them involved his house set on fire.

"What did you _do_?" he yelled angrily.

The Lord of the Underworld looked at him with piercing eyes, and they were so much like Sirius's eyes that Harry had to look away.

"Again, you're assuming that I have influence. Or a body for that matter. What do you think I am? Maybe I'm" – he looked at his face in a mirror hanging on the wall –" _him_. I could be. I could go downstairs and everyone would start crying because they would be so happy to see me."

Harry felt anger flow through him like an electric shock. "They'll never buy it," he said furiously.

Hades was merely shrugging. "It's just a suggestion. I can be whoever you want me to be. It would be just for pretend. Only you would ever know that Fred Weasley is really dead."

Harry was frozen on the spot, horrified.

"Come on, be a sport. It would be fun. No? Then again, maybe I'm just a fragment of your imagination and you're going mad. The famous Harry Potter. Seeing Voldemort in his soup. Attacking people who he thinks hold a piece of someone's soul inside them. Cracked. Done for. Poof! Just like that."

"I doubt that!"

The door flew open and Ginny stepped through the threshold, looking livid. She walked straight into the room and did not stop until she had the tip of her wand one foot from Hades's chest.

The Lord of the Underworld seemed to recoil, but only a little.

"Now I know where that wand ended up," he said wearily. "Good choice, by the way, Harry. What a great way to keep the most powerful wand in the world close to you, giving it to your girl."

Ginny was undisturbed. "You're about to see just how close that wand really is to _you_."

As she raised the wand, red sparks came out of its tip. A cool wind seemed to sweep across the room. It was the cue that Harry needed to regain his senses and step forward next to Ginny.

"Careful now." Hades said warningly to Ginny. "That wand is more powerful than you know."

But Harry wasn't going to let him taunt Ginny. "You've made your point. Now get out of my house."

Hades eyes darted from Harry to Ginny to the Elder Wand in her hand. He seemed to think for a while.

"OK, but you can't say I didn't warn you."

He took a step forward as though daring them to attack him; however, Ginny put herself in front of Harry with the same determination with which she had protected the coffins from the raving George just a few months before.

Resolute, Hades made a flourishing gesture with his hand and he disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. Harry and Ginny both sighed simultaneously, but before they had the time to breathe again, Harry spotted a spark on the floor.

"What's that?"

"It's a … I think it's a necklace."

Ginny merely used her wand to shed light on the piece of jewellery. It was a silver chain with a triangle-like medallion in the shape of three-spirals connected at the center.

The deep voice that they heard from up above made them both jump. "In case you change your mind."

Harry let out a long sigh. His eyes could not leave the object on the floor.

"I'm not keeping anything given by Hades," said Ginny stubbornly.

Stepping forth, she put the tip of the Elder Wand just above the center of the medallion and cried "_Reducto_!"

Nothing happened. They tried several spells on the necklace, but all were useless.

Harry could feel the despair creeping over him. "Not another object to destroy. Ron and Hermione are going to have a fit."

Ginny seemed at a loss for words. "We don't… we don't have to tell them. We can just keep it in your vault in Gringotts."

"I'm not keeping anything from Ron and Hermione."

"But you didn't tell them about your visions concerning our children, just like you didn't tell anyone else in my family about the Horcruxes. It took you one month to talk to _me_ about that, by the way."

Harry's mind was thinking hard. It was the last part of the mission, the one thing that he had put off doing since he had destroyed Voldemort.

"I felt so much better afterwards," he said, looking at Teddy's crib as though the little boy was going to give him an answer. "I can't bear those secrets anymore. This has to end. Tonight. Do you think we can ask your parents and brothers to remain behind when everyone else has gone? Neville and Luna as well. And Fleur, obviously. McGonagall, she deserves to know. And Krum."

Ginny was close to him now. "Viktor? Are you sure?"

"He's helped more than once. He's one of us; one of the DA, I mean."

Her eyes were wide when she spoke. "You're really decided, then?"

"Yeah, I am."

"I think it's the right thing to do."

"Me too. I…"

But he didn't finish his thought. There was a moving shadow on the dirty window. Someone was outside. Someone was peering in.

What came next happened really fast. Ginny pushed Harry out of the way. A red spark shot pass her and hit the mirror that broke into pieces. Harry swept Teddy Lupin into his arms. Ginny conjured up a Shield Charm to protect them while another shot of red light hit the wall. And then the three of them ran downstairs where they were welcomed by music and laughter.

Ron was having a good laugh at them. "We wondered if you two were ever coming down…"

He was cut off by Hermione. "What's wrong?"

Harry was trying hard to calm Teddy down. He was moaning in his sleep as though he knew that something had just happened. Screams of terror were not going to help him go back to sleep.

"He's all right," Ginny said hurriedly when she saw Mrs Tonks worried expression. "Something just attacked us. There was someone outside the window. Whoever it was shot spells at us. They nearly caught us too."

There was a sudden silence.

The first voice that Harry heard wasn't the one he had expected.

"All right, listen up. We have to make sure the Muggles don't spot us. But it doesn't mean that we have to stay indoors."

"Neville, what are you doing?" Harry said as Mrs Tonks was rocking Teddy in her arms.

"He's fighting back," Ginny said eagerly. "You're right, Neville. There's not a moment to lose."

George and Krum already had their wands ready. "Those people must be crazy to think they can take all of us."

The rest of the guests were nodding in approval.

"Let's divide into teams," said Bill Weasley.

Harry couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. This was madness. He couldn't allow his friends to face danger on Christman Eve. "No one is going out there. We'll cast spells around the house."

Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. "It's OK, Harry. I think that they know what they're doing."

"No, they don't!" he couldn't help shouting.

He looked at Ginny but she seemed as resolute as the others.

"There are still a lot of Death Eaters sympathisers," she said sternly, laying a comforting hand on his arm. "We are not going to be able to have a moment's peace if we don't show them that we aren't scared."

Harry's mind was filled with the faces of Fred, Lupin, Tonks. He wished that he could be more like Ginny: fearless, outgoing, and confident. After one year of being cautious, acting impulsively and without a plan didn't come easy anymore.

However, his friends were not going to hide, that much he was certain of. What he didn't know was: if one of his friends died tonight, would he be able to resist taking out that necklace?

Ginny seemed to catch what he was thinking because she took his hand and squeezed it gently. And while she did that, she also took the necklace from his hand.

"I know that you don't want us to get hurt," he said softly. "We're not running into danger. The worst is over. We're just going to give a few pranksters a fright. What do you say?"

Harry nodded.

"Don't worry, Harry. It can't be any worst than the battle of Hogwarts," said Luna matter-of-factly. "Or than getting into the Department of Mysteries. Or than getting into Snape's office. Or than…"

"We get the point," Krum interrupted.

The others had already started to move out, wands at the ready. He felt Bill Weasley pat his back and mutter in a serious tone: "Best stay indoors, though, just in case."

As the house emptied, Harry went to the front window so that he could see what was happening. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Mrs Tonks, Fleur and Hermione had stayed indoors, not to mention Teddy.

"I know what you're thinking, Harry," Hermione said softly.

"I just… I can't believe that all the danger is really gone, that's it is safe to go out there and not fear for our lives."

"Yeah," Hermione whispered dreamily. "It feels good, doesn't it?"

"I don't know how I feel, to be honest."

Hermione turned to face him. She had one of her most motherly look on her face.

"It's only normal. It's only taking you longer to accept that it's all over."

"Is it really over?" he said without much thought.

She smiled and while staring at his face. "You tell me."

He wanted to hug her, but he was interrupted by Kreacher who came to declare that the cakes and deserts were ready to be served.

About fifteen minutes later, Neville and Luna walked in with a significant amount of snow on their heads.

"Ginny was right: it was just a prank!" Neville announced as soon as he came in the living room. "These kids were playing a game of truth or dare. One of them was told to attack the house of Harry Potter. They live in the neighbourhood, you see, so they know all about this house. They're wizards, you see, and Slytherins too. They started school this year. Mr Weasley is having a serious talk with their parents."

"Ron's dad stayed inside with us," Hermione said a little surprisingly.

"He means Percy," Luna corrected. "But I suspect that Nargoyles were involved too. They like to play pranks too, you know, especially on Christmas Eve."

As the rest of his guests walked back inside, fresh tea and biscuits were put on the table by the attentive Kreacher. They all ate joyously while this time George told the story of the Christmas pranksters who thought they could take on Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Army. Harry laughed a great deal at himself, and his friends laughed with him.

After that, some of the guests began to yawn. The coats were brought out and a few goodbyes were heard. While he was wishing his guests good night, Ginny was carrying out the first part of the plan. The selected people had been asked to remain a little longer. Presently, they were all sitting in the living room and looking tired.

"Where's Ginny?" asked Hermione when Harry finally arrived in the living room, a fresh pot of tea in his hand.

"She had to make a quick drop at Gringotts," he replied plainly.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask why but she was interrupted by a knock at the door.

He hadn't imagined that he would feel nervous. He had rehearsed this scene more than once in his head in the last couple of months. Now that it came to it, now that he had made up his mind, he had butterflies in his stomach, the same as on the day he had asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball.

Ron's surprised yell brought him out of his reverie. "Professor, what are you _doing_ here?"

To everyone's astonishment, Minerva McGonagall was standing in the threshold with a long travelling cloak on her back, and she looked unsure whether or not she should remove it.

"Ron, where are your manners?" Mrs Weasley cried out indignantly. "Come and sit down, Minerva."

The new Hogwarts Headmistress remained standing.

"Thank you, Molly. Clearly, this is a family event. Something on your mind, Potter?"

All eyes turned to him and his stomach renewed its protest. Ginny was beaming, but Hermione was looking at him as though she had just spotted him rubbing his scar.

"I thought that you should be here, Professor. You're family too."

He knew that he was blushing so he looked hurriedly at the floor.

"I appreciate that, Potter. I did think that there was some kind of emergency from the Patronus I received. It's a beautiful phoenix, by the way, Miss Weasley. When did it take that form?"

Ginny looked intently at the Headmistress and replied in a low voice. "When you were hurt last year, Professor, all the Gryffindors got together and we swore that we would be Dumbledore's Army forever. My Patronus started to change from there."

George was eyeing her with an annoyed expression. "It's a bit cheesy, isn't it, sis?"

She shrugged but smiled at her brother. "Maybe a little."

But McGonagall seemed unmoved. She was looking at Harry as though trying to see through him.

"I guess I need to get a new owl," he said jokingly.

Hermione could not hold her silence anymore. "What's with all the mystery, Harry?"

He couldn't stare at her. It would give him away instantly.

"It's been a really nice evening," he said to everyone in the room, "and I just wanted to extend it a little further, if everyone would care to stay."

Hermione kept looking from him to Ginny. "Harry, you're acting weird. What is it?"

Before he could reply, Ron had made a squeak as though he had just understood something that no one else had. "If you two are about to tell us that you're getting engaged or something…"

_What_?"

Mrs Weasley had stood up as though someone had just pinched her.

"No one is getting engaged, Ron!" Ginny burst out.

"Well," said Mr Weasley, stepping up as well, "I think it's clear that Harry has our blessing…"

Ginny looked appalled. "We're not engaged, dad!"

"Oh, Ginny! It was always meant to be," cried her mother tearfully.

She was hugging her daughter before Harry had realised what was going on. George, Percy, Bill and Charly burst out laughing.

"Mum, honestly, I'm _seventeen_! I don't want to get married now!" Ginny protested on top of the increasing laughter.

Harry could tell that he was losing the control of the situation. It was going to be a long night if he couldn't get everyone to focus.

"Please, if you could all just get into the dining room, we'll be starting in a moment. Hermione, a few protective spells, if you don't mind."

But as he looked over at Hermione, he saw that she was kissing Ron passionately under the mistletoe.

"Never mind," Ginny intervened.

She then took the Elder Wand and began walking around the house while whispering Hermione's usual protective spells.

"How come _she_ gets to do the spells?" Ron sneered in Ginny's direction while Hermione was pulling him towards the dining room.

A good fifteen minutes later, everyone was seated around the table. Kreacher had brought water and a basket full of fruits. Harry cast a good look around the table, savouring the moment. They all looked happy and relaxed; even Krum had a smile on his face as he was talking to George. Only McGonagall looked slightly out of place with her black dress and tired eyes.

Mr Weasley spoke first on top of the noise. "So, Harry, what's on your mind?"

"Well," he began solemnly, "I thought since you are all here, it might be time for the whole story."

Sudden silence fell on the room.

"This is going to be good," said George excitedly.

Neville was instantly on his feet. "Harry, honestly, I don't have to be here."

"You've got to be kidding!" Ron and Hermione burst out simultaneously.

There was a thunder of protest. Luna was sitting next to Neville and she pulled his arm until he was seated again.

"Honestly, Neville," George said annoyingly.

Harry knew that he had everyone's attention now. He took a seat next to Ginny. She had just finished casting _Muffliato_ on the dining room's door and windows which were tightly shut.

"They're right, Neville," Harry said in his most serious tone. "I think it's time you understand just how important you were in all this."

"You know that we're going to be here all night, don't you?"

Ron looked slightly incredulous. He was looking at his parents too.

His father saw his stare and, taking his wife's hand, he said resolutely: "I think we can take it."

There was a silence again, which was broken by Hermione's voice.

"Where do you want to start?"

"I thought about it and I think it's better to start with our sixth year since everyone knows about the Third Task, and how Voldemort returned, and also about the prophecy."

Fleur put her hand up. "_Et moi, alors?_. I do not know about any prophecy."

Neville seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Maybe you can sum up… stuff," he said tentatively.

Hermione opened her mouth, but Ron put his arms around her and said softly: "I think he can do it without the help of Hermione Granger."

"We're all ears, Harry," said George eagerly.

However, Harry saw his friends jump in surprise as McGonagall who stood up unexpectedly.

"Will you please step out a moment with me before you start, Potter?"

He walked around the table to join his former Transfiguration professor out of the dining room. He heard the murmurs, but he couldn't make out all the comments. He didn't really worry. As far as he was concerned, whatever McGonagall had to say, it had to be important.

Presently, she was waiting for him near the front door, and she looked troubled.

"I don't expect that you will understand what I am about to say, Potter. So much has happened and I do not doubt that you've acted brilliantly. I see how you pulled out and I cannot begin to tell you how proud I am of what you have done and who you have become. Dumbledore was right to trust you."

"I sense a 'but', Professor."

McGonagall continued. "I can see that you have been hurt, but you are young. You have taken the first step to recovery tonight. In this room are friends who will stand beside you probably for the rest of your life."

Harry looked over his shoulder at the long corridor, feeling a wave of warmth sweep over him.

"There are more than friends. They're family."

"It was at a meeting like this that Dumbledore created the Order of the Phoenix, and I have no doubt, Potter, that you will do tremendously well as the leader of this new order that you are now starting."

The Headmistress looked lost in thought for a while. As he looked at her, he began to understand. There was so much sadness in her voice.

"You don't want to be a part of it," he said, weighing every word.

She shook her head. "I appreciate the offer, I really do. But I am old, Potter, and my mind needs to rest. I need to go back to my school and repair the damage that's been done. There is a deep magic… the kind that needs mending. There is no other task for me now. But I would like to know one thing, if that's acceptable for you."

Harry was taken aback, but he wasn't going to refuse. "You can ask anything, Professor."

"Is he really gone?"

He chose his words carefully and tried to be convincing. "I believe he is, Professor. We destroyed every part of him that could be destroyed. At the end, when we duelled, he was just a man, he was Tom Riddle again, and he could be killed."

He was not sure what to make of her expression. She seemed relieved, but still sad and distant.

"I'm not going to find anymore of Tom Riddle's old school things at Hogwarts, then?"

"No, Professor."

She opened the door. It was snowing softly outside. The wind was cool and inviting.

"Are you going to be all right, Professor?" Harry asked.

Her answer was a half-smile. "I may not have Dumbledore's style, but I do know how to Apparate on my own school grounds, Potter. You can give everyone my regards. Merry Christmas…" She seemed to hesitate, and then she said fondly, "_Harry_."

"Merry Christmas, Headmistress."

As he was looking at the old Hogwarts professor step into the snowy night, one last thought hit him.

"You were talking about Voldemort, weren't you, Professor?"

But there was no answer, only a faint _pop_ as McGonagall vanished into the night. _Not everyone grieves the same way_, Harry thought as he closed the front door, locked it and cast _Muffliato_ over it, just in case.

As he started to walk towards the dining room, he thought of George, and then of Teddy and Mrs Tonks. He, Harry, had yelled at Dumbledore and thrashed his office when Sirius had died; yet, the hurt still remained after years. And Dumbledore… that was hard every day as well. However, he didn't care about the pain anymore. It meant something to him. It was a part of him.

So it was up to the new generation now. But who was he to carry on this mission? Was he a hero: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, who vanquished the Dark Lord? Or was he just a boy, a young man, who, by his experience, would tell others his story so that no dark wizard could ever rise again?

With that certainty well settled in his heart, Harry Potter walked into the dining room where his closest friends were gathered and waiting for him.

It was going to be a very long night.

The End


End file.
